[NB] The Vault

[Azula]

Mother, can you see me?

Azula’s head cocked to the side as the world inside the vault seemed to ooze into slow motion. The myriad of competitors lunged as if through molasses at the horde of mecha-murderers imposing on them, save for the fire princess; she could do little but watch. Her jaw went slack, as unhinged as she felt, as one of the Cyber Jasons stepped directly before her, sliding his machete across the temple’s stone floor with a particularly drawn-out shiiiiing.

Azula blinked, then heard it: chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh.

The blade swished up, and almost involuntarily, her back folded backwards. She evaded the Cyber Jason’s swipe by inches, and lifted a single boot off the ground. She twisted her body, pulling her knee to her chest, and shoved her foot outward, hard, toward the Jason’s stomach. The sole of her boot didn’t connect, but sapphire flame burst from her heel, slamming into the monster’s abdomen. He stumbled backwards as time sped back up and Azula rejoined the land of the living.

Within seconds, her boot slammed into the ground and the opposite fist swung upwards, a huge burst of blue fire blasting from her knuckles. She watched as one of the other competitors sidestepped it just in time for it to crash into Jason Twenty-Seven and send him careening back even further. Azula’s vision went a little spotty as her teeth began to grind against each other and her other fist lit up, prepped to attack.

She lunged forward and felt something pound against her head — but it wasn’t from an exterior force. She grunted, then shrieked, then nearly collapsed to her knees as the greatest migraine she’d ever felt swam into every pore of her skull.

Monster.

“Azula!” a voice the enraged madwoman vaguely recognized as Stheno called, “Azula, are you alright?”

The Princess-Commander turned to her gorgon ally, and the world went still again. The blindfolded woman sprinted toward her at a snail’s pace, reaching as if to help — but Azula turned away.

Another long, ferocious shout escaped her lips and she pressed her palm forward, launching a jet of flame toward Twenty-Seven’s hockey mask. She kept her arm outstretched and the fire coming, her guttural shout not stopping as the mask melted off the Cyber Jason’s face.

The hulking monstrosity dropped to its knees, not dead, but charred nonetheless. Stheno appeared at Azula’s side, placing a hand on her commander’s shoulder. “Azula—”

“Stheno,” the princess exhaled, finally seeming to catch her equilibrium, if only for a moment. The teenager turned to her only friend here — perhaps the only one she’d ever had — and smirked. “It has been… a pleasure working with you. If you’ll have it… I have one last order for you.”

Stheno looked down at her… friend, and nodded. “What would you have of me?”

Azula’s mad smile grew bigger. “No one leaves,” she chuckled. “No one but us.”

Stheno nodded, and the pair of women split. The gorgon launched into battle with some assortment of nearby mecha-murderers, and Azula turned back to Twenty-Seven only to see something else just beyond his shoulder that placed a twinkle in her eye.

Her feet crossed the expanse of the Vault in a hurry. She leapt over Jason Twenty-Seven, flipping forward to dodge a lazy swipe of his machete, and slammed her foot into the temporarily-grounded Elise’s cheek. The vampire lurched further into the base of the huge pillar she’d crashed into, groaning as the fire princess lifted a fist to continue her assault. Sapphire flames wreathed Azula’s hand, and she threw a punch toward Elise’s face — but the other girl was quick.

Elise’s hand reached up and caught the flaming fist. Flames danced through her fingertips, singing them and burning her palm as the crazed Azula pressed forward, trying to connect the punch to the traitor’s skull. “You fucking… psycho!” Elise shouted, squeezing hard on the fire princess’s fist until she heard the distinct crack of Azula’s fingers breaking. “What about our fucking deal, girl?”

Azula stood and faced the other woman as she scrambled to her feet, hair falling out of her bun and into her eyes. “Our deal’s for when this is done, bloodsucker,” she seethed. “In here, you’re mine.”

“Well, can’t it wait till these bitches are dead?!” Elise shouted, throwing a finger towards Jason Twenty-Seven, who’d by now gotten back on his feet and stared down the two young women.

Azula glanced over at him, watching as he stalked towards them. Every step he took rang through her skull, the noise radiating with volume and pressure unlike anything she’d ever felt. Inside that cacophonous mind, Azula raged. She felt the expectations of every soldier who’d followed under her lead — and every one who’d died under it. She felt the fear of the people she’d killed, the villagers who’d tried their hand at subduing her, the many who’d betrayed her trust. One stood mere feet away. Across the vast vault, she saw another lunging for one of the unmade abominations that had made it this far.

Past Jason Twenty-Seven’s hulking form, she caught sight again of the only woman she’d been able to trust from day one. Stheno raged against another one of the Jasons, a perfect specimen of pure, unbridled warrior power.

Power.

Monstrous… power.

She huffed. Elise was right.

She spun her hands quickly, forming a disk of flame and launching it toward the massless Jason’s neck. He swung his machete up and batted it away, only serving to infuriate the fire princess more. She glanced, briefly, at Elise. “I’ll handle this one,” she said simply, pushing off the ground and leaping towards it. She wrapped her arms around its neck, swinging wildly around until she’d placed herself on its back. Her hands covered its exposed face, and she screamed, releasing fire from her palms, fingertips, wherever she could until his head melted away into nothingness, and he fell, dead, to the floor.

She sucked a deep breath in through her lips.

Do you see me, mother?

Killing monsters?

She snapped her head toward a nearby disturbance and ducked, rolling off the dead Jason’s body and barely avoiding the thrust of a pitchfork by another. She glanced up at the beast as it lifted the pronged weapon high in the air and started to pitch it down directly towards her. Her teeth gritted, she tensed her muscles, ready to attack, when something collided with her and knocked her out of the way.

She rolled, getting lost in a sea of blue, as she steadied herself to find him lying next to her.

“Mustang?!” she shouted.

“…hi,” Roy Mustang mustered as the pair hurried to get up.

Azula was about to speak when the gurgling growl of their pitchfork-wielding assailant called both of their attention. The Uber Jason stood before them, adequately menacing.

Chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh…

“I should kill you,” Azula muttered.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Mustang shrugged. “Maybe kill that thing instead?”

“Hmph,” the Princess-Commander grunted to her ex-Commander. “Perhaps I will.”

The Jason lunged forward, swiping at them both with the fork; Azula and Mustang leapt forward, rolling beneath it. The ex-Commander turned in the air and clicked his weapon, launching a burst of flames from the tip with the sparks it made. The pair landed on the ground, bounding to their feet and staring down their frustrated adversary.

Azula rolled her eyes. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“I’m improvising!” Mustang protested.

The princess let out an incredibly teenage sigh, then held out a hand. “Improvise better, fool.”

Mustang glanced down at his former general’s outstretched hand before shouldering his weapon instinctively and grasping her wrist. Azula let her slim frame go slack, and Mustang yanked her into the air, using whatever strength he had to spin her around as she conjured flames around her captive wrist. Her arm already mostly broken, only a little healed from before thanks to her magic cupcake, she felt a little wince of pain before Mustang released her into the air like a blue-flaming missile towards the Uber Jason.

*Snap*

The sapphire fire around her burst into an even bigger display, dancing with Mustang’s orange alchemical ones, as Azula straightened out and slammed her flaming feet directly into Jason’s chest.

Wherever she is… there’s no way she can’t see this.

 

[Mirage]

“Now this is what I’m talking about.”

Mirage smirked as he was given his weapons, then suddenly thrown through a portal landing on his back on the steps of a familiar temple. Wraith and Coyote were right behind him, though a bit more graceful. The trickster groaned as he picked himself up, taking a bit longer than anyone else to realize what was happening. One thing became clear as they descended into the vault and the towering figures showed themselves to those that were now a part of the gauntlet.

Chh Chh Chh Ahh Ahh Ahh

The legend pointed a finger at the killers and began shouting out and waving around.

“Woah, hold on, this guy is stealing my moves!”

His complaints were cut short by the chaos that soon followed. The trio of legends, Mirage and Wraith in Coyote, were a force to be reckoned with. Wraith was capable of piloting the titan despite its size and her injuries, her long forgotten instincts kicking in. Mirage focused on distracting as many Jasons as possible, getting more comfortable with himself as he propped himself on stone rubble, leaning back into the half standing slab while Jason number twenty-something approached at a breakneck pace. Mirage didn’t move an inch as the killer thrust into his chest with enough power to crack and wedge itself into the slab of stone. Wraith quickly followed up by bursting forward and unleashing a barrage of missiles as she unleashed the XO-16 upon the mask-wearing killer.

Mirage’s face contorted before fizzling away.

“Ha-ha, Bamboozled!”

Mirage chuckled as he came out from behind the slab.

“Mirage! Behind you!”

Wraith attempted to backtrack with Coyote as she turned to see that Jason had managed to sneak past her and her partner.

The trickster stopped chuckling as he held his trophy in his hand, afraid to turn around.

“He’s right behind me isn’t he?”

A flash of steel came down above him, the shadow casting over the trickster as a machete thirsted for his split skull, only to be deflected by a rather precise shot from the side.

“Commander?” Mirage questioned before using his two fingers on his free hand to poke at Jason’s eyes, then darting away from the menace that attempted to cleave him.


“I’m as much a Commander as you are a General, Mirage.” Mustang was short with his words, yet held a slight smile. “Glad to see you managed to make it, but the war isn’t over yet!” His attention was quickly stolen by a nearby Jason, pushing on him and Izaneus.

“I think there are more splitting off this way!”

Wraith arrived to provide support, trying to keep track of her partner again as the chaos continued. It wasn’t long before she lost the trickster of a legend, the one she thought to be the original dissolving as it blew a kiss to the nearest Jason, who seemed to tense even further with murderous intent. A blur of charming idiocy caught the corner of Coyote’s neurolink, prompting Wraith to give chase before hearing a call behind her.

“Make sure that those monsters don’t break through that skull of his! It’s our greatest defense.”

Wraith stifled a chuckle as she moved in to get closer to Mirage. In the distance she could see the trickster approaching a fallen Jason who struggled to get back on their feet. Scorch marks and holes littered its chest and limbs, but the mask still held strong.

“Hey little buddy, not so tall now are you!”

Mirage quipped as he used a decoy to taunt his fallen enemy, having it pretend to shoot it multiple times before landing a last devastating kick.

“Ha, I’d like to see someone else pull off a finisher like that.”

Mirage shook his own hand and patted himself on the back as a blade slashed through his decoy and into his shoulder. The cracked body shield shattered as it began to dig into his skin. As he stared into the mask of his attempted killer, he noticed what seemed like a floating red circle and a screen with his horrified face on it. His confusion was short lived as bright blue fire shot past him into his assailant. Azula coming to his rescue? The fiery ex-commander pressed Jason with a flurry of flaming attacks, forcing him to pull back, though taking him along with him.

“Move out of the way for those who actually have the skill to take down one of these worthless warriors.”

Azula struggled to avoid wasting her energy on the trickster between her and her target, him still attached to the blade of her enemy, before a sudden lurch caused both Jason and Mirage to stop in their tracks. They could both feel their sweat pour from the flames before, paradoxically frozen as Azula simply smirked at them.

“Thank you, Stheno.”

Stheno came from behind Jason, and with one swift movement from her own machete, cleaved the hand off of the paralzed killer. Wraith arrived to quickly pick up her still paralyzed comrade, looking up with Coyote at the other duo while she removed the machete in Mirage and threw it into the distance.

“Hopefully, you two have learned your lesson about surrendering. You fight, and you either win, or you die. Prove you would even have the gall to stand against me.” The two slipped away as the paralyzed Jason started to regain its strength. Blood spewed from its nub of a wrist, but Jason seemed to hardly care. It stomped forward, along with another Jason that seemed to simply pop into existence from behind a burning pile of stone and leaves.

“How many are there?” Wraith asked through clenched teeth.

“After analyzing my playback and tracking their movement where I could see them. Thirty.” Coyote’s robotic voice piped up after having been mostly silent for the exchanges.

“Th-That’s a made up number.” Mirage squeaked out, the feeling in his body returning to him. Wraith glanced at each of her targets before making a plan in her mind. Another shadow appeared to intercept them.

“How about you show me what a crippled bitch inside a robot can do, not-a-spy?”

Beatrix III stood with an aura of smug bitch as she faced the two Jasons.

“Pilot, I suggest we throw you forty degrees southwest.”

“Throw me where?”

Wraith seemed just as taken aback.

“Trust me, Pilot.”

Wraith watched the analysis appear on screen and hesitated for a moment before looking at Mirage, then proceeding to throw him into the sky. His wingman fluttered in the air with him before he reached against gravity and the wind to grab it, watching the world fly by before landing gut first against… Karl?

“With all the cameras waiting for your death, I feel like I should have seen that coming.”

Atlantis had already taken advantage of the distraction, her trident thrusting into Karl UnJak’s chest.

“Get this doomed bastard off of me!”

Karl growled in pain and anger as he reached up with a knife and drove it into Mirage’s side, causing the legend to gasp as he was heaved off of the unmade host, only to be telekinetically caught by Altanis.

“You are more useful over here.”

With hardly a flick, Mirage was sent through the air once more, this time doubling as he and his clone began to separate in trajectory. Jason number twenty one stood still, machete readied as Mirage crashed into him, only for it to be an illusion. The killer looked up to be met with a mask full of the legend’s rear end, knocking them both over.

“D-Do I smell blood? That’s yours, right?” Mirage moved and felt the pain in his side. “Nope, that's definitely my blood.” He groaned, rolled over, and pulled out his wingman.

Jason marched towards him as he pushed himself along the floor. Each shot simply made the killer hesitate for a moment, before continuing unimpeded by its effect. As the last shot fired, Mirage pulled out his trophy, his final defense against the monstrous figure. He swung against Jason, only for his trophy to be thrown from his hands. Another camera seemed to come closer and zoom in, and Mirage could swear that he could see Karl Jak on the other side eating popcorn in anticipation. Jason stood over the legend, taking one final breath to take in the kill, before another towering figure loomed over even him.

“Can you smell what the Rock is cookin?”

Mirage watched as the Rock swung his trophy and sent the killer twirling in the air before slamming onto the ground.

“Hah, why does it smell like pork chops?” The muscular man looked down and grabbed Mirage, standing him up on his feet. He handed the trickster his trophy and strutted to the knocked down Jason.

“Mirage! Are you okay?” Wraith had found him again.

The legend removed the blade in his side before taking a sharp inhale, “I really need to use a shield battery.”

Exactly 1500 according to google docs

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

In Stheno’s relatively short time in the Abyss, she had quickly come to realise that nothing was ever as simple or straight-forward as it looked. So, naturally, when the contestants were thrust into the vault, her instincts began screaming at her. If even a simple engagement could turn chaotic, then an obviously chaotic situation would devolve into an absolute shitshow. When the Jasons appeared, the mercenary couldn’t help but grimace. She hated when she was right.

Even as the situation turned to hell, she did her best to keep her eyes on Azula. Even when she was slightly maimed and thoroughly shellshocked, the princess had a fire in her soul befitting someone with her position and abilities. Still, the gorgon wasn’t about to let her throw herself into a suicidal charge. That was her job! Even when it meant dueling one of the many mechanised murderers or flipping her blindfold up for a moment to paralyse another enough to lop his hand off, she didn’t hesitate.

Still, this wasn’t enough for the berserker. She wanted to keep Azula in one piece, yes, even more so, she was here to do a job. And that job was to create as much carnage as she could. Turning to the nearest Jason with a furious grin on her face, she brandished Ladon before pointing it towards him. The cyborg slasher was unmoved even as Stheno gestured towards his machete with the point of her own weapon.

“Mine’s bigger.” She said with a toothy smile. Jason, on the other hand, did not seem amused. Or upset. Or anything, really. All that the warrior received for her quip was a blank look and a resounding

Chh chh chh...

Ahh ahh ahh...

“You’re a creepy bastard, huh?” The warrior muttered, shuddering slightly. The gorgon glanced to the side for an instant, briefly distracted by the chaos surrounding her, and next thing she knew, her foe had vanished. “Huh?”

“Stheno! Behind you!” Azula cried from somewhere across the room. A beat later, a jet of sapphire flame came careening through the mosh pit, over the merc’s head, and into the towering form of an Über Jason looming over her. Jumping a little at the sight, the mutant whipped around towards the source of her jumpscare, bringing her foot around in a wide arc and into the beast of a man’s stomach. Though he may not have crumpled like a paper bag when her blow struck home, even one as mighty and stoic as Jason couldn’t take such a kick without flinching.

The serial killer hunched over silently, taking a step back before raising up to his full height once more, machete clenched tightly in his grip as he continued his approach. Frowning, Stheno took a more defensive stance, careful not to take her eyes off her foe. For a moment, she considered tearing her blindfold off and letting her gaze lose, but she decided not to. Not yet. The chaos that would ensue if she started paralysing people across the room randomly would probably do more harm than good, particularly if she accidentally caught Azula in it.

She was torn out of her thoughts by Jason’s machete descending towards her. Suddenly alert, she raised her own, quickly angling the blade up and towards the incoming swing. In an instant, his murder weapon was caught in one of the many grooves along Ladon’s edge, held in place as Stheno shifted her grip on her goliath machete, attempting to twist his signature slasher out of his hand. The cyborg’s grip was, unsurprisingly, extremely strong, and even the gorgon was struggling to disarm him.

The pair struggled against one another for what must have been mere moments, but what felt like a small eternity, moments before another Jason came flying across the room towards the pair. The mercenary had no idea what had sent him flying beyond the fact that it was presumably another non-Jason, but wasn’t about to question the opportunity. Quickly shifting her weight, she wrenched her foe around and in the direction of his soaring double, throwing him off-balance just enough to force him to stumble into the path of the makeshift projectile.

With a heavy ‘THUD’, the two murderers slammed hard into one another, sending both to the floor in a sprawling heap. Unfortunately, even as she managed to yank the first Jason’s machete free and reclaim control of Ladon, a mountain of men fell upon Stheno. She barely even had time to gasp as the mammoth serial killers crashed onto her, pinning her to the ground. As a consolation, however, the warrior felt her machete pierce deep into flesh as she fell, though where exactly on the cyborg’s body she had impaled was a mystery.

“Get the fuck off!” She growled, attempting to wedge her feet between herself and Jason’s body to kick him off, but the pair of men weighed an ungodly amount. “Like hell I’m gonna die being crushed under a couple of dudes who won’t even talk back.”

Fortunately for the berserker, salvation came in a stream of azure flames splashing across the prone forms of the Jasons. The curtain of fire enveloped the dogpile and quickly faded, revealing Stheno’s thankfully unburned body. From her perspective, she had simply blinked and the weight crushing her had vanished. Scrambling to her feet, she gave a nod of thanks to Azula, but was under no impression that she was out of the woods yet. How could she be?

Chh chh chh…

Ahh ahh ahh...

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
"The Gauntlet"
PC Entrants: Ki, Ridley, Mirage, Iron Wraith, Musashi, Azula, Roy Mustang, Nico Cinder, Pennywise, Stheno, Altanis, Izaneus Phortea, Strazio Rockwell, Elise
NPC Entrants: Beatrix III, The Rock, Karl UnJak, Baseball Girl, Sgt. Swift, Gamzee Makara, Violet Uzumaki, Steel Wolfe​

Karl Jak, for what it was worth, found himself absolutely memorized by the orgy of violence playing out on the screens of the observation room. Long having left behind the Karl Bunker for the cozier environs of Syntech Headquarters, the executive producer and a number of team leaders and administrative assistants were lounging about in the lavish suite, enjoying their assorted beverages and watching the mayhem.

Except Kevin. Kevin was down in catering, because that’s where people go reassigned when they FAILED TO DO THEIR JOB RIGHT.

***​

Pennywise the Dancing Clown recoiled back to the shadows of the Vault. After weeks of pulling at the strings, the monster now found itself literally backed into a corner. A pair of Jasons stood to its left and right, but It did not fear these creatures. “Come play with Pennywise!” The clown took a menacing step forward and lashed out with a clawed hand at one of the metal men, and in response, they both tilted their heads in unison before turning around and advancing toward different targets.

Left to Its own devices, the clown found itself momentarily taken aback by the about face. Did they fear Pennywise?

Yes. That had to be it.

That was when Pennywise felt the heavy breathing on his neck.

That was when Pennywise suddenly detected the faint smell of wet, decaying flesh and leathers.

That was when Pennywise heard the drip, drip, drip of perpetually waterlogged clothes leeching their fetid, foul lake waters onto the bloodstained floor of the Vault.

Twisting his neck around like an owl, the clown stared right into the vintage, axe-wounded hockey mask of Jason Voorhees. Something primal twisted up in Pennywise’s innards as dormant memories resurfaced of machetes and the cold, unyielding embrace of the serial killer who stood behind It. “You are different from the others,” Pennywise spoke as the rest of his body slowly twisted around to face the heaving, unspeaking man. “Everything different. The smell is…” the clown went to take a sniff only to have a heavy hand close around his throat, crushing whatever It had to say.

Pennywise unhinged his jaws, flooding the killer in the glow of the deadlights.

When those mealy eyes simply blinked in response, It remembered a truth that caused Its non-blood to run cold. Jaw unhinging, Pennywise tried to end this reunion, but Jason’s other hand crushed around Its mandible and tore it clean from the rest of Its being. Released from the vice-grip on its neck, the clown, unwilling to accept what was unfolding, tried to lunge once more. It was met with the decapitating blow of the machete. As Its body collapsed, an unrelenting Jason hacked Its corpse to pieces.

The nearest combatant, Baseball Girl, had heard the gurgled noises from the poorly illuminated corner of the Vault, but by the time she wove his way across the battlefield, all she could find was several dozen pieces of Pennywise.

“Boss?” The woman muttered as she poked at one of the assorted chunks of… well, whatever the fuck a Pennywise was. “Ya okay there?”

No response.

“Awww well,” Baseball Girl chuckled as she spun around.

Right into a stolen trident that happened to in the hands of a grinning Karl UnJak.

“Oops,” the producer smiled as he twisted the business end of the weapon before wrenching it out sideways through the harlequin’s abdomen. “Thanks for the fork!” He shouted to Altanis. “Sorry, but I’ll fork you later, Sunshine” he chuckled as he danced off into the fray.

Pennywise is Dead.
Baseball Girl is Dead.

First round is still ongoing, this post doesn't change the timer.

 

[Strazio Rockwell]

He had become aware of everything. Individual atoms, vibrating with such an intensity that it was impossible for them to remain unnoticed. Objects and living things became one in the same, just separate iterations of base elements. Battle raged around him, but it meant nothing. Cloaked in apathy and devoid of emotions he reached out, exerting his influence across one of the hulking meat-metal creations. Such a curious creature, so very powerful and yet held together by practically nothing at all. It moved towards him, apparently unphased by Strazio’s probing. Mindless, more machine than man, utterly banal. Strazio cast it aside as a child might discard a toy.

A burst of blue flames crossed his path, quickly extinguishing in the open air. Strazio turned towards its source, the princess. Where there might have been malice towards her at one point in time, all that remained was a nascent curiosity. Vigor, intelligence, purpose. She shone like a beacon in a room filled with muscle-bound toasters. He drew close, mentally grasping her. She cried out, her muscles straining in vain against the invisible force that now gripped her. Recognition crossed her face as she made eye contact with him.

“Come for revenge?” She said, “I see you had to resort to blindsiding me, how appropriate for a fool like you.”

Ah, yes, this one. Strazio exhaled, his breath hot, even in the vault’s rising temperature. Without a word he began to remove the structural integrity of her arm. Skin sheared back to reveal the yellow-red of fat and muscle tissue. She screamed, but that was to be expected. He could have immobilized her vocal cords, but the sound did not bother him. As he worked to deconstruct her he became blind to the world around him. All that existed was the work to be done before him, work that he continued with the indifference of an uncaring god. Had he not been so focused he would have seen the mercenary’s machete before it tore into his gut.

“We’ve hit capacity on creepy fucks,” The mercenary said as she wrenched the blade from his stomach, “Sorry, but you’ll have to wait outside.”

In that moment his grip on the princess shattered and she scrambled away. The mercenary swung for his neck, but by then his awareness had fallen completely upon her. He willed her weapon away, mentally tearing it from her hand and sending it across the room.

“Alright, you asked for it,” She said, peeling back her blindfold.

Their eyes met. Strazio froze, his mental influence trapped like a spider in a jar. He exhaled again, his breath still hot as his brain started to overheat. She offered him a smile and reached for his neck. Powerful muscles sat coiled like vipers beneath her skin, and the soft tissues of his throat would stand no chance against them.

“HONK!”

The friend intervened, his brightly-painted clubs cracking the mercenary’s jaw upwards. The glass jar shattered, and before her gaze could return Strazio sent the mercenary flying.

“That’s right motherfucker!” The friend exclaimed, “Don’t fuck with Strawso!”

What a strange thing. They had only known each other for a few days, and yet they had known each other for a lifetime. What a terrible contradiction, made even worse by the friend’s insistence on calling him “Strawso”. He needed to understand, and only through disassembly could one truly examine the constituent parts. The friend froze, his clubs clattering to the ground as Strazio’s influence enveloped him.

“Uhh, look I love trans-dimensional hugs as much as the next motherfucker,” The friend said, his ribcage being constricted, “But, this one’s gettin’ a bit too tight.”

Strazio began to work from the outer layer inward. The friend didn’t scream, instead he clenched his teeth tight enough for them to crack. Strazio panted, his hot breath washing over the friend’s face.

“Seriously mother-fucker,” He growled, “This is starting to hurt.”

The friend suffered. Gamzee suffered.

“OKAY STRAWSO!” Gamzee shouted, and whipped his head forward.

Gamzee’s thick-ass fuckin’ skull cracked against Strazio’s nose. Strazio stumbled back, blood leaking from his shattered face and opened-up gut. He sputtered and blew chunks of bloody cartilage from his nostrils.

“What the fuck Gamzee?” Strazio asked, wiping blood from his mouth.

“Sorry bro,” Gamzee said, crouching by him, “No means motherfuckin’ no, ya feel me?”

“I think my nose is broken.”

“It is totally broken.”

“Fuck, that’s a lot of blood.”

“Too much motherfuckin’ blood.”

“Fuck.”

“Fuck.”

Chh chh chh … ahh ahh ahh …

“Scatter!” Gamzee shouted and dove out of the way.

Jason’s machete buried itself into the dirt where the troll had been moment’s prior. Strazio, lacking his friend’s agility, stumbled and fell over. Jason stomped on Strazio’s chest, pinning him to the ground. Mechanically the cyborg pulled his machete out from the ground and brought it high over his head. Strazio screamed and clawed at the monster’s boot, chipping his fingernails against the well-worn leather.

Jason moved to swing, but a voice boomed across the battlefield, “Jason Vorhees!”

Jason froze and looked towards the Great One.

“You think you can just walk in here and disrespect The Rock ‘N’ Rock Connection!?”

“...”

“You think The Great One is just gonna let you get away with that?”

“..-”

“It doesn’t matter what you think!”

“...”

“Jabroni, let me tell you something!” The Rock said, marching towards him, “You better take that butter-knife,”

“...”

“Hold it up high,”

“...”

“Turn it sideways.”

“...”

“AND STICK IT STRAIGHT UP YOUR ASS!”

“...?”

In one solid motion The Rock slammed into Jason, sending the masked monster tumbling across the field. Strazio wheezed as the weight was removed from his chest. The Rock stood over him, like a bronze statue. The Rock flashed him a million-dollar smile and extended a hand. With a bit of hesitation Strazio grabbed it and was hoisted up onto his feet.

“Rockwell!” The Rock shouted, “For a minute there The Rock thought you were taking a nap.”

“Uhm,” Strazio sputtered through a broken nose, “Have we met bef--”

“Listen up all you jabronis!” The Rock smacked him on the back and swaggered forward, “The Rock ‘N’ Rock Connection has reunited, and you better go cryin’ back to your mommas, or The Rock ‘N’ Rock Connection will layeth the smackdown on your candy-asses!”

Strazio blew a glob of blood from his nose and asked, “Who the fuck are you?”

 

[Gildarts]

With disbelief glittering in his eyes the samurai looked at his sensei once again. He basked in the overwhelming warmth of friendship. The great tigress had stepped out of thin air, stooped down and placed a translucent paw on his shoulder.

“You will not fight this battle alone.” She declared to him before unsheathing her blade. The ghostly warrior stood proudly beside him, her distinguished stripes proudly representing the fiery passion she had for combat. The two synchronized a wordless bow as they moved as one and faced the battle ahead of them.

Blood began to pour.

It felt like all they could do was dodge. Evade or else, there was no time to counter. Soon, they found themselves against a wall.

“This isn’t working!” The tigress who had been fighting by his side pleaded to him, “There must be another way. Find it.”

Ki stood there absorbed in utter stillness. The sounds of carnage bounced from the stone surface of the walls, scattered across the tunnels with the splatter of blood while rebounding to his ears in a cacophony of chaos. The only thing quelling the violence was the deliverance of death far in the distance.

“I know,” He responded in a calm tone, “I am sorry.”

The small samurai’s eyes darted as they traced the momentum of action. The monstrous shadow grew taller as it entered the mouth of the corridor. The masked creature of unending raw strength towered above him cornering the two as they edged closer to the back of the tunnel.

Ki quickly reviewed everything that had gone wrong as Jason took his first step and the lights in the hall buzzed with the strain of an electric flicker. Within the fluorescent splash the masked man grew closer, a silent heft carried the man’s dense gait.

Closer.

Another step. Ki felt the tip of his tail brush against the chilled stone behind him. He looked back at his sensei, her golden eyes containing the true unyielding blaze of a Zhanshi warrior. She was ready to unleash hell upon Jason, one last spill of blood before she returned to the afterlife.

Ki drew air into his lungs as light struck against darkness once more. The sliding step of their attacker’s boots drew again, closer. Within the pristine silhouette, the bulky mass of man extended his arm outward. The luster of his chipped machete gleamed as it sliced a trail of motion through the air.

Ki felt his reflexes pulsate through his body while his muscles propelled him toward the ceiling above his assailant before he bounced over from one wall to the next. Within the cat’s astonishing speed came the whip of his opponent’s sword as it slashed down into the gray feline’s flesh. A clump of sopping bloody hair squished as it collided with the earth floor.

He exhaled a hiss of frustration as Jason’s dense stature twisted with its arms first across the entrance of the tunnel beginning a chase. Ki felt his body bolt beyond the next hash of rust encrusted silver and the whoosh of the swing swayed against his fur.

Blood began to trail behind Ki, feeding the frenzy of the murderous fiend. The cat raced on all four legs with Jason’s clamoring, thumping steps hounding closely behind. Voorhees’ once white mask was freshly speckled with crimson dew glistening in tune with the inescapable stampede.

Just a little closer. Ki yearned as he felt his muscles strain, his eyes blinked at the image trailing behind him. A mangled hand descended downward, hovering inches above Ki’s bloodied pelt.

Racing through the agony of a chunk of flesh hacked off his body, Ki tasted what the end looked like for him. Completing the scene in his mind, he pushed away the thought of his disappointing destiny. He would not die a coward. He would not die bait. He would not die.

Ki felt his body burning under the pressure, it felt as though fire began to melt through his skin and a new color met the feline’s gaze. Blazing stripes began to grow upon his pelt, his balance, his speed, the world seemed smaller as he grew into a height that filled the tunnel as tall as the slayer behind him.

Amid his transformation Jason’s steel grip began to claw into his back. The enemy had taken hold during his vulnerable sequence of growth. The menacing blade raised in the air behind the fully realized Ki and it was then that the motion between them seemed to slow.

Just two movements, Ki felt his sinew entwined body instinctively slam backwards into Jason. The creature clasping on his back felt like concrete, yet the masked man’s balance topped forward. Next Ki’s massive paws gripped around the machete that had been ready to fillet his back. He pulled the hand attached to the machete all the way forward, propelling Jason into a body slam into the ground.

In the deserted pits of Jason’s eyes, above him stood a foe that was no longer a two foot tall cat, now Ki appeared as an enraged beast. A tiger adorned with broad shoulders, snarling to reveal his savage fangs. Ki let out a tremendous roar as he tore away the machete from the creature who had never seen martial arts quite like this before.

Now, the samurai took the jagged blade in his own paw and lifted it in the air. The light flickered as the tiger plunged the blade down into Jason’s chest with all his might.

When the paste of color returned he heard the sword clash with the empty stone floor below.

Used summon and transform! 935 ish words

 

[Nico Cinder]

"Vorhees? More like VorDEEZ NUTS in your mouth!" Nico cackled. "HA! I'm so fu-cking FUNNY!"

His revolvers cracked and shouted, seeking flesh and finding some. Plenty more to be had in this room of shifting light. Wildly shot rounds hit stone and body alike, peppering the floor with dust and body juice. Nico sashayed in time to the ch ch chs and the ah ah ahs to the best of his abilities. It was like a damn salsa room in there. These things have fuckin' speakers built into their asses or what? The rockstar threw a butt sway here, a couple bullets from the hip there, but it never felt like enough. There was too much going on. Too many targets and not enough-

click-click-click

"Siiiigh," he said aloud rather than making the noise. Reloading. His mortal enemy. The hulking visage of the murder man himself advanced on a now empty Nico.

"Bang bang." the boy said to him dejectedly with another click-click. That shiny ass machete of his swishes down and up, across and through, but the boy manages to skitter and scramble out of harm's way at every swipe. He flipped his empty revolver up and caught it by the barrel, throwing it at the encroaching Jason. The handle bounced harmlessly off his skull. As did the second. The guitar though, splinters and ker-rangs. Nico's skateboard flies through the air at Jason next, who catches and smashes it in two against his very, very dense skull. He tossed the pieces to the ground in a huff before planting a boot in his prey's chest bones.

"Fuck!" Nico groaned. His heart and lungs heaved, the whole of his body reeling. All breath is spent on the impact of the blow.

*SNAP*

Gamzee Makara brings his staff down across his knee, splitting it in twain. He twirled his new clubs across his palms in a circus flourish to get a feel for their weight, before bringing whichever one straight across Jason's ugly mug.

“Gon’ have to ask you to step back from the homie here, ugly jumpsuit skin lookin’ motherfucker.”

Nico clenched his teeth. That was Gamzee’s voice. Almost. Jason was silent at this new development, but his steel was not. A flash across his new victim’s face, but the Highblood did not flinch. A second cut opened up beneath the one left by Strazio’s fist at the campfire the other night, the tip of the blade the only part to taste violet blood.

Gamzee understood Jason’s metal in that moment. The hunger it felt, the craving. How intensely wound into its wielder that utter starvation was. When Gamzee was hungry, he ate. And when a buncha folks are hungry, well...some don’t get fed. ’Boutta have me a thirty-piece happy meal, he thinks to himself.

“Hey good buddy,” the troll says to Nico, without taking his eyes off the hockey mask. “You’re gonna wanna go check on our own.”

“Where’s Elise?” Nico pulls the Chord back into existence, scanning the carnage happening all around the room. Gamzee shrugged. “And that Strazio guy ya’ll like so much?”

“Oh, can’t miss the motherfucker. He’s doin’ mighty swell.” Gamzee pointed a club downstage left. A Jason wreathed in a ghostly green light was being slammed repeatedly into the wall by the face, held in the air as if by God’s own two fingers. A figure that could only be described as bright was making the motions of pushing a thumbtack into a corkboard with his hands. Very quickly.

“Okay,” said Nico with a face. "Maybe you should go check on him." Jason got bored, apparently, taking another swing at the intruder clown. Gamzee caught the machete with the wood of his club.

“Go on then, straight shooter. Find the rainbow drinker. I'll go tend to cotton top over there. We’ll be around," Gamzee growled. "Probably, keheheh."

“You better not die, dude, we’ve got shit to do!” The good ones ALWAYS died shortly after Nico met them, and he hoped it wouldn't be so for their "own," as Gamzee so eloquently put it. Clownish asshole had a way with words when he really wanted to. Truthfully though, he wasn't sure that anyone in this room would be alive at the end of this. Just a dusty old temple filled with blood and bodies, spent ammunition, scorch marks. The rockstar fades into the fray, looking for his homie.

Gamzee's grip shook against the weight of murder incarnate. He was quite tired. He was quite sore. He was quite thirsty. Gently, he slowly gave way to Jason's strike, letting the edge of the weapon slide slowly across his nose, eye to eye, just so. Liquid amethyst slipped from the new wound onto his wandering tongue.

Delicious.

-----

Elise is the one that finds Nico. It was hard not to, with the racket he was making. When was he ever not making a damn racket was anyone's guess, but for once Elise was grateful for his excessive noise.

"RELIEVE THEM OF THEIR THROATS!
SEVER THEIR CORDS!
YOUR GODS DEMAND THEIR DEATHS!"

This fool was screaming like a banshee, wailing and carrying on like there weren't a bunch of psychopathic murders named Jason or Azula in this room that wanted his mouth sewn shut. She could feel the shift in energy in the air though, like his voice was moving her limbs for her. The throb of the guitar overshadowed the dull aches and pains of god knows how many days of fighting and living like a heathen. The hurt was still there, but she didn't mind. She almost appreciated it, when paired with the roaring music. The vampire used this second wind to sprint up to her friend, sliding underneath an overhead slash from a stray Vorhees as she did. The goth girl nearly tackled him with her momentum, trying to drag him somewhere relatively out of the line of fire.

"Hey c'mon! I was shredding!" he yelped as they rounded a pillar.

"Boy you about to be shredded if you don't-" she began, but was cut off by a nasty looking trident sinking into the stones between them.

"Now now, children," came a gross voice. "Leave room for Jesus."

"Oh c'mon, how many times we gotta teach you this lesson old man?" she shouted at the UnJak. He frowned back, pulling his new toy out of the stonework.

"Old man?" he sneered indignantly.

"Nico! Sic 'em!"

Karl's unbetter half is assailed by an angry rockstar. One thing angry rockstars have is a lot of is pent up frustration. Another thing they have a lot of is guitars. It just so happens that Nico had a theoretically infinite number of the same guitar and a lot of pent up frustration about fighting in a war. Once the Unmade interloper is chased off, they took a moment to breathe and scan their particular block of the room. There are bodies in the shadows, but it's almost impossible to tell whose or what condition they're in.

"Gamzee?" She asked.

"Went to go check on yall's boy. You seen him lately? He uh, looked like he had some shit going on." He replied.

"That's one fuckin' way of putting it," she said. "Long as Gamzee finds him I'm sure they-"

She trailed off, staring at the dancing glow of the larger fight.

"What? What is it? You thirsty?" Nico asked. He turned to follow her gaze. "Oh."

"Who the fuck is that?" She asked. In that direction, quite visibly in the light of the battle, a big BOULDER of a man was beating two Jason's into submission at once. He seemed nigh unstoppable, an immovable object if you will. The white splotch of mage paint next to him seemed like a likely candidate for Strazio Rockwell. He didn't look like a litebrite anymore.

"That would be The People's Champ." came the boy's measured response. "And our boy."

She turned to look at Nico. "Who in the FUCK-"

"Do you smell it, Elise?" he said, with wide eyes. It was a struggle to keep his face as straight as possible. "Do you smell what the Rock is cookin'?"

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
“The Gauntlet”
Ki, Ridley, Mirage, Iron Wraith, Musashi, Azula, Roy Mustang, Nico Cinder, Stheno, Altanis, Izaneus Phortea, Strazio Rockwell, Elise
Beatrix III, The Rock, Karl UnJak, Sgt. Swift, Gamzee Makara, Violet Uzumaki, Steel Wolfe​

Elsewhere in the Vault, the battle seemed to be shifting but not in the favor of anyone who wasn’t a cybernetic serial killer.

Nico and Elise had barely had time to process the calamity that was the Rock n’ Rock Connections bout with a tandem of Jasons. As Elise tried to ponder what scent she was supposed to detect in this scenario, other than the heady aroma of blood and the stench of smoldering steel, something crashed into Nico’s chest.

Reflexively, the youth caught he fleshy object, but when he looked down, he immediately regretted that decision, as the severed head of Gamzee Makara had a bit of a sad look on his face.

They always died after shortly after Nico met them (or at least within a few weeks).

***​

In yet another corner of the Vault, a woman squared off against a faceless robot. “I don’t care if you’re made of metal, you’ll have to do for the purposes of repaying this debt,” Violet sneered as she twirled her daggers before lunging in for a pair of near miss strikes on an exceedingly nimble Steel Wolfe.

“Oh, my dear,” the robot intoned as he lashed out with his own array of jabs and slashes that were met deftly by the scowling woman. “I’ll send you back to the retirement home where you belong.”

“Tch,” Violet replied as threw a dagger at her foe’s head. He evaded, but when she shifted his focus back to the woman, she had already launched a baseball-sized burst of ki into his chest.

Thrown back into a pillar by the force, Steel Wolfe shook his head as a number of popups on his HUD informed him of some structural damage to his core. “We shall persist,” he remarked to himself as the woman stalked closer to him. Before she got to within stabbing range, a machete burst out through the front of her chest as he feet left the floor. The Italian robot had a few nanoseconds to sneer and calculate a smarmy response before he realized that the machete was still coming right at him.

A little too slow on the reaction, Steel Wolfe winced as the blood-soaked machete smashed through his central systems in his chest as if his innards were made of something less than katchin. The tip of the machete didn’t come to a rest until it was another half foot through the sandstone pillar.

“My d-d-d-dear,” Steel Wolfe replied, his voice warbling like the beaten up machine that he was. “W-wwe have been im-puh-puh-paled.”

“Fuck you, Wolfe,” Violet, blood cascading down her mouth, hissed as she managed to stab her dagger into one of his lifeless eye sockets.

As a swift response, the machine put a knife through her heart, but even as the woman sagged dead onto him, the robot’s critical functions were already blinking offline.

***​

Iron Wraith lunged forward and grabbed the machete as it swung toward her neck. Her other fist lunged out and intercepted Jason’s right hand before he could land a punch.

“I’m sure it doesn’t feel good to not have the advantage,” Wraith spoke through the titan’s comm system. “To be inferior,” she added as her shoulder-mounted rockets primed.

Before they could fire, a second Jason joined the action, and the woman in the mech suit found herself tackled to the ground by a few hundred pounds of steel and dead flesh. Quickly punching the new Jason in the side of the face, Iron Wraith shoved the hulking mass off of her and proceeded to immediately roll to her left as a machete nearly sank into her heart. Propelling herself up to a fully vertical position, Wraith twisted and emptied the rockets at the first Jason. The serial killer burst apart like a moldy watermelon as Wraith twisted, drew her chaingun, and unloaded on her second assailant.

Even as the chaingun sawed through his metal-infused body, the Jason marched forward, and even as his body collapsed into two shuddering halves, he managed to swing the machete through one of the woman’s legs.

Iron Wraith screamed behind the cockpit as Coyote’s systems politely informed her of ‘catastrophic appendage damage’. Dropping to her one remaining knee, the mech-augmented soldier caught herself with her hands before face-planting onto the blood-soaked floor of the Vault. The system was talking to her, asking her operational questions, but at the moment, there was a dull throbbing in Iron Wraith’s skull that overrode the rest of the world.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” Someone tapped hard on one of Iron Wraith’s shoulders, and while her first instinct was to start blasting, she managed to hoist her head up first. The feed in the cockpit was grainy and garbled, so the solider yanked away the face plate and allowed the stench of blood, smoked meats, and sizzling electrical parts to assail her senses.

“Are you good?” The same voice asked as Iron Wraith slowly turned her head to see the redhead from the Miniskirt Armada’s spy squad staring down at her. “Your leg is gone… can you stand?”

“Maybe,” Iron Wraith wheezed. Her face was pale, and the soldier knew that she’d bleed out or go into a fatal bout of shock before she received enough medical attention to function. “Help me up to that pillar,” she muttered. “I can still fight, but I just need to get upright.”

“Sure,” Beatrix III replied as she walked over to the legless side of Iron Wraith and helped the mech-augmented woman get back up to a fully vertical position. “Can you… hop back?”

Iron Wraith, her face already glossy with sweat, nodded before kicking away from the floor with her good fit. With Beatrix to make sure she didn’t miss, she gently smacked into the pillar and proceeded to grab hold of it with one hand.

“I’m good,” she mumbled as she scanned the Vault. “Leave me, I have to keep him safe now.”

Beatrix simply nodded her head and was gone into the fracas as Iron Wraith hoisted the chaingun with her other hand.

With Mirage in her sights, Iron Wraith opened fire on the pair of cybernetic killers attempting to close in on the trickster. The Jasons barely managed to register their fates before they were corpses on the floor. Having executed a flawless ‘duck and cower’ maneuver at the sound of the heavy ordinance, Mirage opened his eyes and turned his attention to the woman who stood a way across the Vault. When that Mirage suddenly blinked from existence, it took Iron Wraith a moment or two to spot the real Mirage after he poked out from behind a column. She would have waved, but she knew the moment she let go of the pillar, she would fall over. More than that, she was certain she wouldn’t get back up if she did.

Suddenly, that stupid grin on Mirage’s face twisted into a wide-eyed expression of horror. “Renee!” He shouted as he broke into a sprint.

Iron Wraith, her head heavy, looked to her left just in time to see the handsome producer—his own eyes glued on Mirage—as he slid the knife across her throat.

“Why does this feel fantastic?” Karl UnJak chuckled as he vanished behind the pillar as Mirage opened fire on him.

***​

Ki backflipped as the machete slammed into the floor. The feline warrior’s strength was at an ebb, but in his transformed state, he had tasted the blood of the villainous monster, and even though his strength was finite, Ki knew he still had what it would take to slay more of these robot beasts.

When the Jason required an extra moment to liberate the oversized knife from the fresh gash in the stone, the samurai pounced, his stolen machete finding a soft spot between some metal plating as it passed through the killer’s upper arm. Liberated of the appendage, Jason nearly toppled over, but somehow, the seemingly unweighty goliath stayed on his feet and focused his red eyes on the anthropomorphic cat.

“Paw-lease, you don’t want to keep fighting me right meow, do you? In your state?” Ki inquired as he adjusted his grip on his own piece of jagged steel. When Jason took his first thundering step toward the feline warrior, Ki knew that this little exchange wasn’t going to end smoothly. “These guys are walking cat-tastrophes…”

Jason, ripping his machete free with his remaining arm, lunged forward with an unsettling burst of speed. The heavy blade cleaved through the air as the samurai dodged once more, opting for speed over confronting the monster directly. Falling back as Jason pursued, Ki eyed a faulty pillar as an opportunity, and the cat discarded the machete in order to drop to all fours.

Even quicker than the lumbering monster, Ki reached the point in his mind and scampered up and around the pillar. His eyes found the uneven fault lines and understood how this would play out as Jason drew closer, the heaving cyborg beast never peeling its eyes off the feline warrior.

“Come and get me,” Ki remarked as he squeezed the pillar with his arms and eyed the distance between Jason and himself. “It’ll be the last mistake you make!” As the machete swung in for the kill, the feline let go and dropped far below the arc of the machete as it smashed through the pillar.

Landing on his bottom, Ki plated his hind legs and pounced for safety as a few tons of dislodged stone came crushing down onto the Jason. After an almost acrobatic roll, the cat was back on his feet and taking a moment to observe his handiwork. Robot or not, there would be no walking out of that landslide.

“I wasn’t lion,” Ki chuckled just before he saw the missile screaming across the room toward his face. “Oh… no fair.”

The cat was gone in a puff of crimson smog and fiery debris as a sneering dragon turned his attention back to his own litany of suitors.

Gamzee Makara is DEAD.
Violet Uzumaki is DEAD.
Steel Wolfe is DEAD.

Wraith is dead. She will be revived in the Syntech Revitalization Station thread and be free to travel to the World of her choice.

Ki is dead.

Round 2 hasn't started yet -- relax. Enjoy your Saturday.

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
“The Gauntlet”
Ridley, Mirage, Musashi, Azula, Roy Mustang, Nico Cinder, Stheno, Altanis, Izaneus Phortea, Strazio Rockwell, Elise
Beatrix III, The Rock, Karl UnJak, Sgt. Swift​

Sergeant Swift (the fact that she had technically been a lieutenant for the duration of the contest did little to impact how she was addressed) ducked the cyborg’s fist, jammed the barrel of the shotgun into the underside of his chin, and pulled the trigger. Like a confetti toy, the top of Jason’s head burst upward in a dazzling display of blood, stale flesh, and glittering bits of wiring and steel.

“I told you that you needed to calm down,” Sergeant Swift tut-tutted as the cyborg collapsed to its knees before slumping sideways in its final repose. Something bumped into the woman, and without skipping a beat, she spun around, shotgun first.

“Friendly!” Iza shouted as he lifted his hands.

The woman kept the gun leveled at the young mage’s face for a few more seconds before slowly nodding her head and lowering it. She had barely managed to do so when a shadow fell over both of them. “Shit, run!” She barked as she kicked Izaneus out of harms way and let herself get tackled by the next Jason. Stumbling but not losing his balance, the youth quickly regained his senses and dashed over to help the woman, who had two sets of steel-reinforced fingers clamped around her neck.

“Get off!” He shouted as he scooped up a discarded machete and swung it down onto the small of Jason’s back. The cyborg let out something of a guttural noise as he turned his gleaming red eyes to the mage. “Last warning!” He declared as a purple-faced Sergeant Swift continued to claw at the fingers around her throat. Seeing what was about to happen, Iza swung the machete as if it were a golf club, and while he didn’t decapitate Jason, he managed to hack off about half the robot zombie’s face off, along with dislodging the steel hockey mask.

Relinquishing his hold on the blonde woman, the maskless Jason rose up to his full height and tilted his deformed visage at the young man who stood opposed to him. While the eyes had been upgraded with the rest of his physique, Jason’s face remained a misshaped and hideous goulash of diseased, sickly flesh that more closely resembled animal food than a human visage. With no nose and ears, the only markers of humanity were the cyborg eyes and the jagged assortment of teeth that lined a mouth with no lips and exposed gumlines that were speckled with rot.

“What happened?” Izaneus muttered as the young man’s humanity overrode his survival instincts for just one second too long.

The machete swung up and slashed a deep laceration up along Iza’s chest. The tip of the blade hooked the man’s clavicle and nearly tore the bone out through the muscle and flesh that should have kept it in place. Try as he might, Izaneus screamed as he lost his grip on the machete and clamped a franticly trembling hand over the uprooted piece of bone that now jabbed out from the front side of his right shoulder.

A hand grabbed a fistful of Iza’s pantleg and yanked him down to the ground as a machete nearly cleaved his head.

“Are you an idiot?” Sergeant Swift barked before she was kicked square in the chest by Jason and sent rolling like a runaway log into the nearest stone pillar. On impact, the woman’s spine snapped like a twig—a discernible and horrifying noise that was audible to Iza even over the clamor of the battles unfolding all around him.

While his entire right arm was unresponsive and the complex fracture still vied for his attention, the mage managed to take the noncom’s sacrifice as a means to pull himself out of the shock. Tossing a palm forward, he leashed a firebolt at Jason’s chest before the serial killer could once again attempt to liberate his head from his thoroughly mangled set of shoulders. As his foe staggered, Iza reached out a hand and telekinetically tried to grab for a nearby machete.

Instead, a pair of other hands snatched the jiggling blade before it could leap into the blonde youth’s outstreached arm.

“Sorry,” Karl UnJak replied. “I promised my date one of these.”

Iza turned just in time for Jason to finally succeed in punching his skull off the rest of his body.

***​

Strazio and the Rock were a force unto themselves—their combined might a match for the Jasons, even as the monsters seemed to somehow grow increasingly resilient as their numbers thinned. They fought with a fluidity that appeared unmatched by anyone else in the room, and even as yet another head came rolling at them, both instinctively knew when to hop to avoid getting tripped up by the crimson mass.

A few yards away, an incensed Nico Cinder ducked a machete and unloaded the clip of his AK-47 into an approaching Jason. The serial killer jerked and thrashed, but much to the frustration of yet another young man fighting for the life in the Vault, more of the bullets seemed to be richocheting off of ‘Uber’ Jason’s physique. Even the fleshier parts seemed to have some type of Wolverine bullshit, where the bullets weren’t punching neatly through the tissue and leaving sick-ass holes to peep through.

“Something is wrong,” Nico spoke, hoping his voice carried enough to be heard from his allies as he held up the assault rifle and used it as an impromptu shield against the oncoming machete. “They’re… more metal than before? They’re … well, fuck if I know. They’re worse!” He added with a grimace as he tried to prevent the machete from being driven through the center of the rifle and into his face. The initial impact bent the heavy gun as if it were made of cheap wood.

Fortunately, a glancing blow from the Rock broke the focus of Nico’s Jason long enough for the young man to slid backwards. By the time the discarded rifle had hit the ground, it had already reverted to a splintered skateboard. In its place, its former owner had collected a discarded sword from the ground. It wasn’t exactly like the piece of steel he could manifest from his boards, but it was close enough that it didn’t feel out of place in his hand.

Although he felt some post-adolescent snark rising up from the dark recesses of his punkish innards, Nico’s quip emerged only as a croak when he had to suddenly move to avoid a Jason that moved with a little too much pep in his step. Moving a little to fast for his own good, Nico stumbled for a bit before catching himself, and in the process, he bumped right into Azula, whose back had been turned to him.

The Crown Princess of the Fire Nation turned, her eyes and palms ablaze before quickly subsiding as she scowled at Nico. “Watch where you’re trying to die,” she snapped, eliciting a roll of the eyes from her former lieutenant.

“Chill,” Nico remarked. “Just stumbled, I didn’t mean to interrupt your little pyro… show,” he concluded as he glanced at the streaks still burning on the ground and walls behind Azula.

“Get out of my way,” Azula scowled as she shoved down Nico and stepped forward to lay waste to the Jason who had been stalking the punk. As she lifted her hands, she failed to see another of the cyborgs now closing in on her flank.

“Move,” Nico shouted as a furious Azula craned her head once again.

“Stop your babbling.”

“No, you!” Nico added as he threw his sword.

Believing it was aimed for her head, a frantic Azula ducked, only to realize a moment later that the projectile had gone through the air a few feet north of where her skull had been. When the stunned and impaled Jason crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, the princess turned, and for a fleeting moment, there was a possibility that the viewing audience might see something bordering on a sincere apology from the woman.

But then a machete came crashing down through Nico Cinder’s skull, splashing Azula with a fresh coat of blood and brain matter.

Sgt. Swift is dead. She’ll revive on Cevanti to resume killing, because a bad bitch doesn’t enter DA without having life insurance.

Izaneus Phortea is dead. He will be revived in the Syntech Revitalization Station thread and be free to travel to the World of his choice.

Nico Cinder is dead. He will be revived in the Syntech Revitalization Station thread and be free to travel to the World of his choice.

Let’s say that there are roughly… 15 Jasons left, but by virtue of ninja rules, the survivors seem to grow stronger as their peers expire.

All surviving individuals have until Tuesday the 3rd at 8 AM CDT to post a roleplay of up to 1000 words.

 

[Roy Mustang]

“Keep them contained! make sure they're on the defensive! So long as they’re reeling, they aren’t killing us!” Mustang shouted, firing another blast of flames from the rifle’s barrel. It was starting to warp; the metal wasn’t meant to withstand this kind of heat and pressure. He needed to be more constricting on the path the spark could take through-

The thought cut off as he jerked away from yet another machete swipe from yet another Jason. He pivoted on his good leg, eager fire bursting forth from the rifle once again to send the attacker staggering away, flames clinging to the remnants of his flesh and clothing.

Mustang’s head pivoted to check on his allies just in time to see Izaneus hit the ground. He raised his rifle to incinerate the mage’s attacker, but another of the cyborgs stepped into view, obscuring his sight of his target. He would have to angle his flames in such a way that he could be certain they wouldn’t hurt Izaneus. The boy looked injured enough that he would need to keep him clear of the blast. The Jason swung, and Mustang slid to one side.

That should have been enough space to get the shot off against these weaker Jasons, but as Mustang focused on his target his attacker drifted back into view. The machete swished vertically across, and Mustang pitched over, the blade sheering through a tuft of his hair as he hit the ground. Mustang wasn’t aiming at his attacker as he pulled the trigger, but flame alchemy erupted from the rifle, trailing up and into the Jason’s face, sending him back with a crash onto the ground.

Mustang struggled up to one knee, using the rifle as a support. He didn’t have time to waste, Izaneus was… Mustang watched as the last person he could claim to have protected on this island was brutally dispatched by one of the Cyborg killers. He had failed totally and utterly. For a second, Mustang almost stopped fighting. If he let himself slow down, the monsters would be all to happy to end his time here. Let the others fight on. He could just let the struggle end here.

No. That was a luxury he didn’t deserve.

“Bastard!” Mustang yelled, half-limping half running his way towards the Jason that had killed Izaneus.

The silent cyborg straightened up, turning towards Mustang with his scarred and misshapen visage. Mustang barely registered the gruesome nature of his foe’s existence before he jabbed the rifle up towards the Jason’s face and squeezed the trigger. All caution abandoned; Mustang did not throttle the flames of his alchemy in the least as he immolated the cybernetic murderer. A torrent of fire poured from the end of his weapon, the rifle barrel bursting in a conflagration of molten metal. There was a sizable sound as the air all around the silent object of Mustang’s vengeance ignited in an instant. The shockwave knocked Mustang from his feet, sending him sprawling to the blood-slicked floor with the exploded rear half of the rifle.

The Jason with the broken mask had vanished. It was possible the explosion had cremated him, but Mustang suspected he had simply vanished into the shadows as the killer seemed prone to do. He struggled to his feet once again, casting about for attackers, something that could burn. His gaze found itself drawn to the self-satisfied grin of Karl Unjak.

“Not a single soldier, Commander?” The Unmade lieutenant asked, “If I didn’t know better, I would say you almost wanted your castle to fall.”

Mustang ignored the barb, eyeing his enemy. The man in front of him had been through a good deal of pain, but he still managed to retain the appearance of a poised executive, even with blood running the side of his face and the presence of Darksied commanding destruction in his brain. He had chosen this existence.

“You think the Unmaking is a game.” He spoke with a furrowed brow.

“Karl does, you mean?” Karl responded with a smirk.

“It is killing people! Destroying planets!”

“And stylishly at that.”

“Markov survived destruction by the skin of its teeth, and yet you’ve willingly infected thousands with this blight, in the pretense of studying it? Do you even begin to understand how dangerous this was?”

Karl Unjak put a finger to his chin in thought, then shrugged.

“I suppose some of us just have better defenses than others, Lieutenant Colonel.”

“Then it’s time that someone showed you an effective offense!”

Mustang held up the broken half of the rifle with one hand and pulled the trigger. The spark was all he needed, and a ball of rolling orange flames launched out of the shattered weapon towards the unmade executive. Karl rolled out of the resulting explosion scorched and trailing smoke. The man’s perpetually impeccable hair now scorched in patches. He hurled a hammer in Mustang’s direction, slamming solidly into the State Alchemist’s gut.

Mustang doubled over then clung to the weapon. He hung on as it returned to Karl Unjak’s grasp far faster than Mustang could have closed the distance alone. With a growl, Mustang leapt at the executive. Karl Unjak’s practiced kick sent the splintering remnants of the rifle out of Mustang’s hand. Gloved fingers closed into a fist as Mustang swung a left cross directly into his opponent’s jaw. He gripped the collar of the man’s suit and drove them both to the ground.

“If I’m going to die in this place, the last thing I’m going to do is make sure you monsters die first!”

Mustang is using Focus to make flame alchemy attacks with full damage during this post. 0/3 Focus remaining

 

[Miyamoto Musashi]

Musashi could taste the cavalcade of explosions unfolding before her eyes as the releasing heat threatened to burn her. That slightly salty, bitter taste of gunpowder danced on her taste buds as it was joined by another bitter taste. The realization that had it not been for Altanis, she would’ve been in the center of that very same explosion and would now be dust.

The centaur’s save gave the swordsman little respite, as she was returned to the fray with another shove of kinetic energy. The pinkette’s hair flew from front to behind as her direction switched in a heartbeat, crashing head first from the skies with all the fury of a dragon-seeking bolt of lightning.

Chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh…

From above, her doom resounded as the hole-chested Jason sought to settle their score. Hurtling past the swordsman’s head, a cleaver crashed and sank into the stone floor, stealing a few locks of that gloriously pink hair with it.

Below, the dragon’s neck craned, reaching for the skies as his jaws opened and plasma danced at the back of his throat. With a spark, the plasma roared forth, brushing against the swordsman’s armoured left arm. The nanotech was fast pushed to its limits, threatening to melt as the skin beneath began to singe and scorch.

Twisting herself off of the path, the ronin’s eyes saw naught but blinding white from the scorching pain, even as her unending rage shifted the white into crimson.

BOOM!

Holeson above caught the brunt of the dragon’s attack and swiftly imploded. Or retreated as an utter mess. No one would’ve been able to tell behind the blast. Still, the explosion only added to the still-falling swordsman’s momentum as her sword finally found its target.

Thunder clapped across the room as Zenitsu’s sword was drawn, carving into the metal-covered dragon’s head. The blade found purchase as it tore through the steel and slid down, tearing across the dragon’s back, before the swordsman was sent tumbling across the stone floor, by one very angry dragon’s tail.

The Pirate howled with agony-fueled fury as a salvo of missiles fired at approaching Jason’s. They would NOT interrupt him. They would NOT steal his prey from him.

With her momentum grinding to a halt, Shinmen Musashi found herself on the floor, amidst the shards of her previously shattered sword. With laboured breaths her lungs coughed for air, splattering the stoneworks with even fresher blood.

Was this it?

Was this all the fury she could muster?

Pathetic.

Pathetic!

Gathering both, the remnants of what remained of her waning life and the fragments of that shattered, worthless sword into its scabbard, the swordmaster clambered onto her feet. Battered as she may have been, she would never surrender to the beast willingly.

Eyes flaming with re-ignited determination, Shinmen Musashi met the dragon’s returning gaze. The hockey masked distractions had been pushed aside - for now.

From the skies, sakura petals began to fall surrounding the swordsman as her soul was laid bare before him, the short lived flowers dancing with joy and sorrow alike. Her heels kicked off the stone floor as the ronin rushed forth, her prey yet alive and the grudge unsettled.

Blades undrawn, the swordsman’s hands settled onto the recently rebuilt sword’s handle, even as the Unmade General’s body jerked into motion.

Ridley’s tail shot forward, roaring for the swordsman. She loved to go below it; he’d lure her there as it struck, with enough space to dodge beneath. Right as she saw her knees bend to drop into a slide, the dragon’s jaws parted and plasma fired, scorching the stone floor as it consumed any and all including the sliding ronin.

Yet, with sudden weight settling on his tail, the dragon’s eyes widened.
What?!
Jaws closing and head turning for a better view in front of him, he saw but one thing: a pest that should’ve been incinerated by his plasma, dashing atop his extended tail.

A step ahead, the ronin had leapt above the tail and landed atop it, closing most of the gap.

With that the jig was up and Musashi’s bridge collapsed as the tail went berserk, sending her hurtling into the skies. The broken blade finally drawn and cast forward, the previously worthless stub sailing across the skies toward Ridley’s hate filled left eye.

Step ahead in one thing, step behind in another as the dragon’s eye vanished behind the sturdy hide and the stub of a sword merely bounced off harmlessly, not well maintained enough to cause any real damage. Not to mention, that the attack on his eye was predictable as the swordmaster had displayed her desire to blind him once before.

His wings opened to strike her down from the skies, but in the split seconds of the dragon’s blindness, the swordsman latched onto the open wing. Furiously, the swordsman hastily drove fragments of the shattered blade into the mechanical joints, locking the mechanized system into a fully opened position as the jammed servos whined against the metallic shards.

Chh chh chh, Ahh Ahh Ahh…

Stealing a glance below as the swordsman jammed the wing, the swordsman saw a cleaver waiting for meat, and a machete waiting for someone to cull. And a now open eye of a one Unmade General.

And that someone had just begun to drop. And her name was Musashi.

SWISH!

Swaying as one of its massive wings suddenly wouldn’t close, the dragon’s balance was thrown into a state of disarray. All the while, the ronin barely scurried away from the cleaver scraping against her armor as it shattered the stones she had just stood on, sending stone fragments flying.

Shinmen Musashi had created her advantage and now she would have Ridley’s head, with or without the mechanized Hockey Jock’s hindrance-flavoured help.

965 words according to G-docs.

 

[Altanis]

In spite of everything going on in the vault, in spite of the dwindling and strengthening Uber Jasons systematically slaughtering everyone present, Altanis's personal objecting remained unchanging. There were still two members of the Unmade forces remaining alive among this chamber...and that simply couldn't be allowed to stand.

Even deprived of what had become her primary weapon, Altanis was undeterred. She stalked through the chamber, swatting and forcing aside anyone and everything in her path, her increasingly bloodshot and crazed gaze focused with laser precision on the frantic struggle between Karl Unjak and Roy Mustang. With an almost casual gesture, she grabbed up a machete from a fallen Jason in one hand, and as she loomed over the grappling pair, she ground her teeth together and raised it overhead, delivering a savage downward blow with all her might.

She lacked the tremendous physical strength of Jason himself, but the blade was sharp enough that even so it would have been a deathblow if she caught her target full-on.

But she didn't.

At the last second, the unmade executive had lashed out to strike the former commander with a headbutt, and roll roll the staggered man off and away from him, leaving the rusted blade to come crashing down between them.

"Just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" Karl sneered as he bounded back to his feet.

Mustang slowly staggered back up to his feet, casting a wary glance up at the demonic general. For a moment, he hesitated, until his resolve steeled itself again. "We can put aside any personal conflict until we finish dealing with—"

The flame alchemist was utterly ignored as Altanis wrenched the machete back up out of the ground and lunged toward her target, swinging with reckless abandon in wide, unfocused arcs. For his part, Karl Unjak simply darted back, slipping and dodging around the frenetic onslaught with seeming ease; only the thin trickle of sweat and frustrated cast of his eyes betrayed the true effort behind it all.

Until his own 'borrowed' weapon flashed up with a burst of red light, caught the machete's blade, sheared clean through it, and impaled itself in the chest of its former owner with an unholy chorus of squelching, crunching and sizzling flesh and bone as the energized blades did their worst.

Altanis staggered, her entire body sagging and slumping as pain-induced tremors wracked her and nearly brought her down then and there. The unnatural makeup of her body could only keep her going for so long; stubborn willpower and refusal to give up could only keep her going so long past that; what did she have left?

As the unmade executive withdrew the trident from its momentary sizzling sheathe, he turned about to resume his run of the fight only to fight himself face-to-destroyed rifle with Roy Mustang, his expression hard.

Altanis observed in hazy slow motion as the broken and battered rifle belched forth an explosion of flame, and the corrupted producer simply threw himself to the side to avoid the worst of it. The rushing, pounding, ringing noise in her ears drowned out the sounds of the battle around her as she struggled to simply remain upright.

What did she have left?

She ground her teeth together, blood slowly leaking and dripping down from the corners of her mouth. Eyes wide, golden veins creeping from every corner to nearly meet the pupil-less mass in the center. She wheezed out something beyond words, just a rough noise of pure, primal frustration and petty refusal to do the smart thing of giving up.

Her head slowly lifted again, hazy vision locking onto the struggle between Karl Unjak and his newest victim...and with every bit of anger she could muster, surrounded herself with a haze of her own psychic might, throwing herself right for him. Her trembling arms shot out, grasping and clutching for his neck as she wrenched him off the ground.

And she squeezed.

Letting her telekinetic might wash out in a blanket and grasp the infuriating man about his entire body, she squeezed. Like a straightjacket made of steel cables, wrenching tighter and tighter with bone-crushing intent.

Her expression remained locked in a silent, vicious snarl and her eyes in an unblinking stare. She virtually ignored everything else. Even when the primitively fear-inducing chant arose behind her...

Chh chh chh....

Ahh ahh ahh....

....she paid it no mind.

The blade of a machete came down in a vicious arc, biting into and tearing through the last shreds of her armor. She jerked her head to one side, the pain spasms only making her reflexively tighten her vice-grip as she let loose an uncontrolled wave of psychic force at the offending cyborg, sending Jason number something or other pitching away head over heels in a rough tumble.

"You're going to get yourself killed, at this rate, you crazy animal," Karl Unjak wheezed, his cybernetically-gauntleted hand viciously pummeling at one of the arms doing their best to tear his head off.

"I am not...so easily..." Altanis sputtered, coughing and hacking on her own words. "...killed."

 

[Azula]

Blood.

Nico Cinder’s blood splashed across Azula’s face, tinting her normally pale skin a vivid shade of red. It was surprisingly warm, she noticed, as it dripped down her face. She tasted its metallic taste as it slipped into her mouth, and the other teen, skull cleft almost in two by the Uber Jason’s machete, collapsed to his knees in front of her. She had not known Nico too well, but she couldn’t deny that in this moment, as his face fell forward onto the dusty temple floor, it almost felt as if the boy’s punk rock spirit now blanketed her along with the insides of his head.

It was, in a strange way, nearly comforting to have the remains of one of this godforsaken competition’s other youths splatter across her face. After all, moments before his demise, he had saved her life. A worthy end for someone who had served under her in battle, if only briefly; and yet, she felt a song of something not dissimilar to guilt that she hadn’t been able to return the favor.

And wasn’t that new? Wasn’t it just so fresh to feel something? In the ever expanding emotionless void laid out before her, Azula could almost see a door opening. She couldn’t quite reach it, but it was cracked, she just knew it. It had been closed for so long she could barely remember how far she’d wandered from it. She’d spent so fucking long constructing this whole person she was now that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a world for that person to exist in.

Chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh.

She moved without really thinking about it, reaching down and wrenching the machete from Nico’s head. As she swiped it upwards into a battle position, more of the young man’s blood flew across the chamber, onto the walls, the floor, and the face of his murderer. Sparks flew from the fire princess’s hands as the machete lit up with electricity, and she thrust it forward with reckless abandon.

It lodged in the neck of the oncoming Jason, sliding a little ways into his fleshy collarbone before slamming against something metallic. Azula let loose a feral scream, taking a cue from her long lost dog, and launched a flaming foot into the cyborg’s head. It shifted as the young woman released the hilt of the submerged machete and vaulted over him, skidding to a halt on his other side.

Both of the Princess-Commander’s hands flew into the air and she spread her fingers wide, opening her palms and bending as much heat as she could into them. She lunged forward, slamming her open hands onto the temple floor and letting forth waves of flames as the earth itself was scorched with her rage.

“Burn,” she muttered.

Blue fire burst forth from every limb as she tipped forward into a front flip, kicking fireballs out from the soles of her boot. The ground lit up with a beautiful cerulean glow, and Uber Jason’s body was set aflame as well. Azula landed and watched with some mix of fury and glee as he lit up like a candlestick before her eyes.

She stood and watched, permanent scowl etched on her sadistic face, as the flames from her assault dissipated… and Jason still stood tall.

Her lip twitched.

She’d given him a very specific command.

“I said burn,” she repeated, louder, lifting a fist and punching an orb of flame towards his face. He cocked his head to the side and the fireball sailed right past him. Then he started, again, to move toward the princess. She scoffed petulantly.

“You don’t know when to quit,” she shrugged. “Lucky for you… neither do I.”

She charged forward.

Chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh.

Blood continued to drip down her face as she reached up, pulled the clip from her bun and tossed it like a shruikin at the hulking murder-robot. It did little besides distract him, but that was enough. Her raven-black hair rolled down her shoulders and into her face as she leapt towards him. She felt herself going without thinking, just feeling something, anything, for the first time in years.

It had always been so difficult. She’d consigned herself to the idea that it was just how things were, when you had the life that she had. When you had the expectations of so many on you. When you had such profound disapproval placed upon you at such a young age. When your brother hated you, and your father loved you more as a favored tool than a daughter. When your mother cast you out of her arms before you could even really think for yourself and become who you are. When your friends turn on you, knowing what they know, seeing you and every brick that made you…

And they betray you anyway.

Had she meant nothing to them the whole time?

Had she ever meant anything to anyone?

Chh chh chh, ahh ahh ahh.

Her legs wrapped around Uber Jason’s torso and she pressed her forehead against his. She didn’t know if these things really had eyes or just some twisted robot optic sensors, but for what felt like ages, she stared into whatever they were, letting all the hatred she’d ever felt pour out of her into this one gaze.

“BURN!”

As she opened her mouth, fire came out. A huge, unbreaking stream of pure sapphire flame, breathing directly into the face of Nico Cinder’s murderer. He flailed beneath her hot breath, trying his best to rip the teenage girl off his chest, to little avail. Azula was nothing if not persistent.

She roared, and roared, and roared, and breathed fire into Uber Jason’s face for as long as she could.

Because she would be the last one to leave this place.

She would win, and she’d do it for the only person in the entire fucking universe that mattered.

For herself.

997 words, re: Google Docs. Azula uses a focus to… breathe fire. 0/1 remaining.

 

[Mirage]

Mirage watched as an all too familiar wave of sorrow washed over him, staring out as Wraith’s limp body dropped to the floor. Her strength had drifted so far, she was dead before she hit the floor. Her mask broke off and skittered across the stone, somehow louder than anything around him, the longest seconds of his life before it landed at his feet.

“I-I’m sorry, Pilot.” The robotic hum of Coyote grinded to a halt as a data chip popped out towards the legend.

Tears welled up in Mirage’s eyes as he struggled to process what had happened. He knelt down and grabbed the electronic chip, popping it out and holding it tight in his hands. Moments passed before he snapped back into focus, watching Karl Unjak walk towards him.

“What is it that you say?”

Mirage remained silent.

“Bamboozled! That’s it! You know, I think I see the appeal of it now.”

Mirage simply stood there, stillness amidst the chaos as if the whole arena had given him the spotlight, but for this stage, he did not want to perform.

“Oh, come on. You guys weren’t even official, this is like, what, your second death date? At least you’re two for you.” Karl UnJak continued to prattle and step towards him, cocky and confident. Mirage almost felt as if he may be staring into a mirror. Memories came to his mind about Renee, about the times he would say something wrong or do something stupid. Or both.

It was back then he realized how much shit she put up with for him. How much she was willing to endure for his sake. Even now she was willing to stick with him until the end, and with Karl, Unmade or not, it truly was bitter. The only comfort in his mind was that after this was all over, he would find her in the right hospital this time, and she would say that the only thing she regretted was not putting either Gilgamesh or Karl UnJak down herself. If nothing else, he could at least promise to do one of those things for her.

“Karl,” Mirage hissed as he pulled out his trophy, holding it with one hand as he marched forward. "You bastard."

“Oh, you’re approaching me? Instead of running away, you’re coming right for me? Even when your girlfriend has thrown her life away to babysit you and make sure you survived this far?” A chuckle came from the unmade host.

“I can’t beat the shit out of you without getting any closer.”

“Oh, then come as close as you’d like.”

UnJak smirked as he noticed the second Mirage standing just a bit behind the first one. This guy was really that stupid. Only a guy as dense as this idiot would make that kind of move. The assassin simply lunged forward to try to dash through the decoy and strike Mirage in such a flashy twirl that the real Karl Jak’s laugh would be able to be heard from here.

That is, until he collided with it, his head pressing against Mirage’s chest while stumbling over himself and attempting to regain his footing. The upswing from below caught him completely off guard. He felt his jaw crunch as Mirage drove his statue’s head up into his gut, sweeping him completely off his feet. The smell of the blood he coughed up was quickly overtaken by the overwhelming stench of pork chops.

Mirage grinned as he began to put on a rather peculiar mask. It bore a rather familiar look to a masked man in the theatre. "Trust me, losing ain't that bad, you learn something new every time! At least... that's what I've been told."

UnJak threw a knife at the legend, embedding the blade in the trickster's thigh and inciting a growl of pain from behind his mask. Before either party could throw another blow, Altantis had arrived for her piece of the UnJak, and she was taking it with a giant fork, or trident, rather.

UnJak barely had enough time to himself up, barely fitting his ankles in between the gap of the weapon. A plume of smoke followed suit as he disappeared into the darkness.

Unjak’s disembodied voice called out to them, “I’ll let you two have a little fun with the others first. Can’t have the final boss fight just yet, kiddos!” A huff came from the centaur, clearly furious at their rival’s escape.

“Leave him to me,” she demanded.

“Get in line! I’ve had beef with him since like last year! Well, more like pork chops.”

Altanis tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. If there truly was any sort of line, she would have no qualms about cutting directly to the front to trample the damned assassin. However, until he showed his crooked face again, the Jason brigade would have to suffice.

The centaur seemed to pay no mind to the bamboozling buffoon as he tried to find his way back onto the battlefield, which seemed odd considering the size of this place. One would think that it would be hard to avoid. Mirage popped a few shield cells as he counted how many he had left. Just two more, enough to top off if he took another hit, but his body shield would be done after that.

Chh Chh Chh Ahh Ahh Ahh

And here comes the cavalry.

Mirage spun around to meet his assailant, immediately finding him a bit more than off-putting. Scanning the killer, he noticed that not only was Jason holding his machete with his left hand, but his right hand was completely gone. Jason number twenty something, back to finish the job. Mirage tried to keep track of the numbers, but it was far too confusing with how many were running about. He pulled his wingman from its holster and took aim.

“Just a thought, but maybe don’t pick a fight with the guy who can’t lose anymore. Or something like that.”

The chaos resumed.

1000 with google docs

 

[Ridley]

The brief satisfaction of taking down a kingsman quickly vanished in the sea of Ridley’s unyielding rage. His wing screamed in pain with every unconscious flap or errant nudge crushing the shards of metal further into the drake’s sensitive tissue.

Musashi’s assault was unrelenting. Somehow the samurai had proven more dangerous than a thousand of her peers and fought more fiercely than even the slayer.
But she was not alone, Ridley realized, forced to stumble forward as his talons skipped across the vault floor. That was no dodge away from his missiles. The psychic was nearby, lending support…

Altanis. He’d slaughter her as soon as he’d ripped Musashi in half. The Hell Divers would all burn-

The thought was interrupted by another uninvited guest entering the party, slamming Ridley into a nearby pillar with one hand. Another one of these disgustingly ramshackle undead cyborgs. Cybernetic components fused to long-dead flesh, all in service of wasting Ridley’s time

Ridley’s forward talons lashed out, his claws firmly gripping into Jason's shoulders. Jason responded by releasing his grip on Ridley’s neck and pulling the talons free, crushing them in his own mechanized grip. The brute strength of Uber Jason still dwarfed Ridley’s own, and the serial killer forced the dragon down to a kneel before delivering a kick to the jaw with his cybernetic foot.

The blow stung and Ridley tasted his own blood pool in his mouth, but the xenomorph still grinned, using Jason’s temporary lack of balance to force himself up onto one talon. Since the murderer had been so nice as to brace him on the pillar, Ridley bought up one of his lower talonsand dug a grisly, curved claw into Uber Jason’s stomach. The hooked appendage dug through exposed wiring and long-rotted flesh alike, and the cybernetic monster kept pulling, intent on disemboweling the annoying cyborg.

A golden blade snuck through the edges of Ridley’s vision, and the familiar form of Musashi Miyamoto re-entered the stage, landing on one of Ridley’s talons. With one swift motion, she stabbed with all her body weight downward, cleaving into Ridley’s armoured gauntlet and Uber Jason’s shoulder underneath

Ridley screamed as sparks mixed with blood, flames spreading across the ground as he screamed out a burst of plasma at the ronin. She was already gone by the time the inferno flew past Jason's head, and Ridley angrily threw the giant aside in frustration.

Electricity sparked from the dragon’s eyes as energy pulsed through his body, and the cybernetic wyrm tapped into Untotto’s spare reserves of mana…

Battery at eight percent, Lord Ridley.

Ridley growled in response, focusing his lock-on software. A red wireframe outlined Musashi’s back-flipping form, along with the Jason next to her, but Ridley wasn’t finished. . The alchemist would be spared the flame for now, as Ridley had arranged, but altanis and the rock man were locked straight on. After noticing a particularly annoying face screwed up in frustration, Ridley recognized this one - he’d seen his face before at the outer layer of the vault, but this one smelled of fat and blood and marrow. Not a hard-light projection then.

A fifth red outline burned across his frame, too. He’d heard him prattle enough already.

Storm clouds burned above the targets, releasing bolts of lightning on top of them. Musashi leaped back, and the dragon’s focus exclusively changed to the samurai once again.

Ridley charged forward on all fours, ready for the move, trying to shoulder-check the swordswoman into a pillar. Musashi used him as a handspring instead, flipping up from his shoulder to land gracefully behind the pirate.

“Running again?” Ridley sneered, before the thick orange of magma streaming across her emerald blade caught his eye.

Ridley screamed, before barreling forward, plasma leaking from his mouth. He couldn’t even tell where the new wound was, amidst the sea of injuries. Everything hurt and ached, his wings had been clipped, and the only thing that gave his muscles intensity was his own hatred.

It didn’t matter. Hatred would be enough.

The pirate pounced forward like a cat, fire following every claw swipe, but Musashi was quick, flipping and dashing just out of range of every slash or scorching blast. The two fought their way across the vault, Ridley not noticing the fodder he threatened to run over in his pursuit.

The pirate was slowing down, though, his strikes missing Musashi by broader strokes every time, and the rodent was quick to figure it out. Ridley struck with a wide, sweeping claw, once again, but this time the mouse dove beneath the pirate, bringing her two blades together as she sought for his weak-spot, and brought both her blades together in a cross-cut, determined to carve the dragons’ chest wide-open.

Instead, sparks flew as Ridley’s tail jutted from behind him, parrying both weapons. The samurai dove to escape, but Ridley was far faster, a grin plastered on his face as he scooped her up in one talon. Anger and frustration flew onto her face as she realized she’d been trapped.

Ridley brought her up to eye level, looking her in the eye with a sadistic grin. the dragon’s jaws snapped open to engulf Musashi whole, the same way her partner had been-

New agony engulfed Ridley as a boulder slammed straight into the side of his head, sending him tumbling as his vision swam. He threw the ronin across the floor as flames spat from his maw.

“Not… this time.” a familiar interloper wheezed out between breaths.

Ridley narrowed his eyes as they fell on the one who denied him his prey. When he’d first seen Altanis with her cocky demeanor and smug sense of superiority, he’d wanted to see this look - gasping for air as her shoulders heaved with the effort of her last attack, falling on her last legs. Now, it just pissed him off.

His answer was wordless, just rough sheets of plasma fired to burn the demon general alive.

 

[Strazio Rockwell]

They were finally back, the jabroni-beatin’, pie-eatin’, temper-losin’, trailblazin’, Rock ‘N’ Rock Connection. Although, Strazio had no fuckin’ clue what the Rock ‘N’ Rock Connection was, he was more than happy to fight alongside The Great One. And fight they did. The duo moved through the battlefield like a true force of nature. Strazio had found a certain instinctual understanding of The Rock’s fighting style and he fit perfectly into The Great One’s blind spots. As they made their way through smackdown city, one of the Jason’s swiped at The Rock, nearly catching him across the chest.

“Whoaaa, easy there, big fella!” The Rock taunted, slapping and stomping his leg.

The Jason swung again, chopping downwards and barely missing. In that moment Strazio leaped over The Rock’s shoulders, using him as a springboard to deliver a flying tackle to the recovering cyborg. Following his partner’s attack The Rock swept the legs and Jason hit the concrete like a cinder block.

“Fuck him up!” Strazio shouted, rolling away from the downed monster.

The Rock simply smiled and dropped the People’s Elbow on Jason’s candy ass.

As Strazio rolled away from the dropzone he bumped into something fleshy and faintly smelling of Faygo. Gamzee’s disembodied head stared at him from its place on the blood-slick dirt. Gamzee was dead. Gamzee was fucking dead. Strazio shuddered and fell to his knees. He reached out and touched the troll’s severed head, hoping that it was just some sort of twisted illusion. It didn’t vanish beneath his touch and he clenched his teeth hard enough to split the enamel. His hands curled into fists, the joints in his fingers popping beneath the strain. The Rock shouted something, but it fell upon deaf ears. A moment later a machete came down hard, hacking into Strazio’s shoulder and getting caught on the bone. Strazio grunted and grabbed the blade, his arm shaking as Jason fought to pull it free.

“I’m going to kill you,” Strazio grunted through his teeth.

He stood up, allowing Jason to wrench the machete free with a sloppy squelch.

“I’M GOING TO KILL EVERY LAST FUCKING ONE OF YOU!”

Before Jason could swing again Strazio was upon him. Though the man lacked the sheer bulk of The Rock the explosiveness of his charge was enough to stumble Jason. Strazio clawed and chomped and pummeled, attacking him with the ferocity of a starving beast. He wanted to tear the monster apart. He wanted to rip it limb from limb and swallow the pieces. He wanted it to suffer. He wanted blood. He wanted pain. He just wanted his fucking friend back. All of this meant nothing to Jason. Pain? Friendship? Suffering? What did these mean to a soulless monster? Absolutely nothing.

Jason grabbed Strazio by the neck and in response Strazio chomped down on the monster’s glove. This did nothing to delay the killer’s movements and within moments Strazio was slammed to the ground. The sudden impact knocked the wind out of him, but he continued to thrash wildly. Jason slammed him again and again, until whatever fight was left in Strazio was thoroughly concussed to oblivion. Strazio fell limp. Jason let go, standing back to his full height. Reflexively, Strazio gasped for air and pawed weakly at the monster’s legs. Jason raised his boot and stepped on Strazio’s head.

Slowly the killer pressed down. Pressure swelled inside of Strazio’s skull. With nowhere to escape to, blood began to pool in his eyeballs and sinuses. There was a rush of liquid inside his head, the first of many blood vessels to rupture as the pressure was gradually increased. Then he heard the first fracture appear, a terrible and deafening snapping sound as his skull started to separate. He cried out soundlessly. He held his hand up, trying to call upon any ounce of magickal energy still in his body. There was no magick to be found, just empty memories of what he was once capable of. Without the Avatar of Rage, what was he? Just some angry jackass, too weak to save his fucking friend.

But, just as he was about to resign himself to his fate, he saw something in the distance. Elise was weaving her way through the crowd, rushing towards him. Suddenly the weight was removed from his head. The Rock had snuck up behind Jason, locking him in a bearhug and lifting him high. Just in time for Elise to arrive and deliver a devastating flying kick to the Jason's gut. Yes, without the Avatar of Rage he was just some angry jackass without magick. The Rock threw Jason aside and Elise offered Strazio a hand up. Yes, he was just some angry jackass, but he was an angry jackass with friends.

“Thanks,” Strazio choked out through a mouthful of bloody teeth.

“What’s that, number four?” Elise said, jabbing him in the arm, “Number five? Honestly, dude, I’ve kind of lost count at this point.”

“One of these days I’m gonna save you,” Strazio said, “And I won’t ever let you live it down.”

Elise laughed, “At this rate, you’ll be in a wheelchair long before you have to worry about me.”

“Rockwell!” The Rock shouted, stepping in front of them, “Are you tagging out on me?!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Elise, this is The Rock,” Strazio chuckled, “The Rock, this is Elise, I owe her big time.”

“The Great One recognizes greatness, Rockwell,” The Rock said, materializing a pair of shades from nowhere, “Your friend has got some moves.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Elise said, crouching low as another Chh chh chh … ahh ahh ahh … filled the air, “But, dunno if now is really the time to be patting ourselves on the back.”

The Rock smiled, nodded, and affixed his shades, “All right then, let's go put some boots to asses!”

 

[Sigmund Vrell]

Stheno stumbled to her feet, spitting a couple of shattered teeth along with a decent glob of blood to the ground of the vault as she got her bearings, rubbing her aching jaw.

“Man, that clown wasn’t fucking around.” She grumbled to herself, glancing around to see Strazio mourning over the troll’s severed head in the distance. “Oh… good.”

Unfortunately, the gorgon wasn’t afforded much more time to catch her bearings as another Jason came stalking towards her, sufficiently bloodied but utterly unphased as he silently advanced.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re real scary.” She sighed as he swing his murder weapon towards her. For many, it was a viscous deathblow, but the merc simply sighed and raised her own machete to parry. At least, that was the intention. As his blade came down, the cyborg struck with far more force than his foe had anticipated, jarring her arm and sending her reeling. “The fuck was that?!”

Still on the back foot from the slasher’s blow, Stheno barely managed to lift her blindfold in time to halt his second strike. Taking a step back from the paralysed beast, the gorgon allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief before concealing her arcane gaze once more. Quietly, the gorgon contemplated keeping the blindfold off, but it wasn’t time yet. She has lost track of Azula in the chaos and the consequences of accidentally freezing her were growing worse by the moment.

“Stheno, focus!” A well-timed shout from the fire princess snapped the mercenary back to attention just in time for her to parry another blow from encroaching cyborg. His blow was still far heavier than it had been but minutes earlier, but this time she had been expecting it. Even despite being forced back a step, the warrior kept her composure and, once more catching Jason’s machete in one of Ladon’s many scars , ripped his arm to the side. The mechanised murderer was thrown off-balance for just a moment, but that moment was long enough for the gorgon to plunge her goliath blade into his gut.

“Sorry, big guy, but the one getting split open today isn’t gonna be me.” Stheno grunted before yanking on her weapon’s hilt, attempting to pull it free and send whatever freakish innards that the cyborg had spilling onto the vault floor. Disturbingly, however, it felt as if she was trying to pull the sword from the stone rather than the stomach. “Fuck… someone’s been doing their sit-ups.”

Bracing herself and gripping with both arms, the mutant roared as she tried to free her signature weapon with all her might. Jason, on the other hand, simply raised his machete to end the pesky thing attempting to disembowel him. Before he could end her, however, the gorgon felt someone’s hand on the back of her head. The next thing she knew, her blindfold had fallen free and she was looking her would-be killer dead in the eye.

“No sense in leaving your best weapon locked away this late in the game.” She heard Azula say behind her. “Thought I’d set it free for you.”

“Appreciate it!” The berserker grunted, bracing her boot against the immobilised Jason’s stomach. With one more furious scream, Stheno ripped Ladon free, sending a spray of gore into the air but, disappointingly, not sending his innards spilling onto the cold hard ground. The sheer force of tearing the jagged machete out sent the merc stumbling back and that brief moment, she reflexively glanced back to ensure that she wasn’t about to crash into the fire princess. When she turned back to finish Jason off, her foe had already vanished.

Chh chh chh…

“YEAH, YEAH, I GET IT!” Stheno shouted as she whipped around, Ladon’s edge grinding against the floor. Azula jumped back a little as the warrior turned on her heels, the once-commander covering her eyeshadow one hand to shield herself for her subordinate’s arcane gaze. Screeching against the floor and sending up a spray of sparks, the berserker’s blade cut a glorious path towards the bleeding Jason looming behind the smaller woman.

If the murderer had been surprised by the gorgon predicting his movements, he didn’t show it in his impassive metal mask. Even as the massive machete carved its way up and across his torso, he didn’t so much as make a sound of discomfort. He simply took a single step back before toppling over backward like a felled tree. Breathing hard, Stheno doubled over, giving a little grunt of pain as she realised that she had been gripping Ladon so hard that her palms were bleeding.

“Well done.” Was all Azula had to say before dashing off to fight elsewhere in the vault. The merc opened her mouth to utter a witty retort once she caught her breath, but as her gaze fell over Über Jason’s body, or where it at least should have been, she could only spit out a single desperate “...fuck…”

Ahh ahh ahh…

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
“The Gauntlet”
Ridley, Mirage, Musashi, Azula, Roy Mustang, Stheno, Altanis, Strazio Rockwell, Elise
Beatrix III, The Rock, Karl UnJak​

No one was particularly sure just how long they’d been fighting to stay alive.

A swift strike kick brought Beatrix some needed separation from one of the cybernetic killers, but when the assassin leapt forward to try and seal the deal, she found her blades scraping against flesh yet finding no purchase. A straight punch from her intended prey sent Beatrix spinning, head-over-heels across the Vault before crunching down in a heap of twisted limbs and fury.

“That’s the game, is it?” Beatrix groaned as she rolled onto her stomach and planted her palms into the floor. On the ground for the first time in what felt like hours, the woman saw the thick, sloppy ichors that had painted the Vault over the course of the fighting.

“This’ll do,” the redhaired magus whispered as she stood up off the ground and set her sights on a Jason casually stomping his way toward. “Come to Mother, Jason,” Beatrix growled as she clenched her fingers into tight fists. As she did, the blood at her feet started to congeal into viscous blobs as it was willed up into the air around her.

The cyborg hoisted his machete just in time to get struck in the face with a hardened orb of blood. Lurching backwards, Jason tried to refocus himself and only managed to take another step before a sanguine spear punched up through his chest with enough force to knock him off his feet.

With one Jason felled, a now seething and wide-eyed Beatrix III tapped deeper into her powers as more and more blood pooled in the spaces around her. Spears and blades forged of thick pulsating blood danced in the air around her as she hurtled them at everything in sight. Some landed into soft, squishy targets while others slammed viciously into the floor, walls, and pillars that filled the Vault. Smiling from ear to ear, Beatrix used a pair of blades to decapitate one of the Jasons, and when the blood fountained up from his neck, she turned it into knives and buried them in another nearby killer.

In the euphoria of it all, the woman never sensed the cyborg behind her. She only felt the cold invasion of the machete as it tore through her ribcage. Even as her own blood sputtered out from the fatal wound, she managed to harden it into jagged edges and send it crashing into other Jasons.

As the last of her strength failed her, Beatrix III never lost that insane, blood-fueled sneer, even as he limp body thudded to the floor.

An errant metal fist swung for someone’s skull and wound-up smashing through one of the numerous pillars in the tomb-liked chamber.

Much like the others who had already given up the ghost, the Vault took that moment upon itself to collapse, with the majority of the skewered, bloodstained, pockmarked floor buckling beneath the survivors, who could do little more than cover their heads or dive to try and grab for something a little more stable as the avalanche of sandstone threatened to swallow them hole.

Among those who failed to grab hold and were dragged toward the darkness was Azula, but as the crown princess felt the ground topple beneath her, a strong hand grabbed her by the arm. Even when gravity nearly yanked Azula away, Stheno merely grit her teeth, her other hand hooked around a broken piece of column still tethered into momentarily stable floor. “I have you,” the gorgon shouted as the Vault continued to drop away into an unknown abyss. “There!” Stheno then shouted as her gaze sharply turned.

Azula saw the blur, and before she knew what was going on, she’d managed to snatched Elise by the shoulder. The sudden shifted in weight caused Stheno to reflexively cry out as she lost her grasp on the column. There was a solid six feet where the berserker didn’t know if they were going to plunge to their deaths or not, but then she found something solid enough to grab onto with her now blood-slickened fingers. Once more, the sudden stop to their downward motion dislocated the gorgon’s shoulder, but she didn’t scream on this occasion. In the process of their near plunge into free fall, Azula lost her grip on the third woman, but the pair managed to lock hands before the former Miniskirt Armada spy plunged into the unknown.

“I don’t see the bottom,” Elise shouted up as she turned to look at Azula. “… thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t thank me,” Azula sneered as the hand whose grasp she shared with started to warm up. “I just wanted to see the look on your face when you realize that your life is in my hands.”

“Az—”

“No!” Azula spat as flames started to lick down Elise’s arm. “I do not take betrayal well, you blood sucking vermin.”

“What I did was for the greater good of the people on this island.”

Azula scoffed. “I’m the one you should have feared, Elise. You should have known better.” With that, the princess of the Fire Nation released her vice-like grip on the now fully ablaze Elise. The vampire plunged like an errant firework for a few more stories before smashing into something solid. A few seconds later, the fires blinked out—either snuffed our or buried by the growing heaps of debris.

“Was that…” Stheno trailed off when Azula glanced up to stare at her. The gorgon, who had seen and experienced worse, simply let the thought go unfinished as a more pressing concern reared its ugly head. The pillar, which had served to save them from free-falling like many others had, let out a wheezing cough of dust and particles as it finally started to break apart from all of the recent stressors placed upon it.

“We have to…” Stheno pulled Azula up as close to her own chest as she could. “Get around and on top of this when it falls. The landing might be awful, but it’s better than being crushed.”

Azula reached around the gorgon and crawled onto the other side of the pillar as it broke away and started to fall forward into the dark. Helping her companion, the princess helped drag Stheno up, and as they fell, she conjured a fistful of fire to light the shadows.

***​

Strazio, owing to the quick reflexes of his ‘tag team partner’, had made it to the solid ground at the base of the collapsed structure. They had spotted the free-falling fireball but neither had connected one and two together before they had to go for cover as rocks continued to rain down, fed from the gullet that was the center of the collapsing Vault.

By the time Azula and Stheno crashed against the top of the pile of rubble, nearly everyone else had arrived as well. A moment or two after they had landed, beams of light from a now fractured roof of the Vault provided a source of illumination at the center of the basement. With the exception of Elise, everyone was still accounted for, but before any of the survivors could get a handle on the situation, other torches flared to life, revealing that they were indeed in some intentionally designed cellar of the ziggurat.

chh chh chh … ahh ahh ahh …

The foreboding yet melodic sound effect echoed across the vacuous chamber as the surviving Jasons started to step out of the shadows of explode up out of piles of rubbles.

“Rockwell – move!”

Strazio was hit hard and sent to his haunches by his companion, who let out a frustrated groan a beat later as the machete of the ambushing Jason caught him square in the chest.

“The Rock says…” Grabbing hold of the machete with his hands, the Great One drove his own face into the metal plate that adorned Uber Jason’s visage. It took a solid half dozen headbutts and a few broken facial bones, but the Rock managed to dislodge the killer long enough to rip the machete from his own chest and behead its owner. “You’re a …” Wavering on his feet, the Rock collapsed right next to a still stunned Strazio.

“You saved me,” Strazio muttered as the Rock reached out to him with bloody, trembling hands that the white-haired magus clutched into his own.

“That’s…” Dwayne grimaced as he tried to speak. “That’s what tag team partners are for Rockwell.”

“But I do—”

“Hush now, you jabroni,” the Rock muttered. “Don’t you cry for the Rock. The Rock’s contract means this isn’t the end, but it does mean…” A bout of coughing interrupted the man’s remark.

“Means what?”

The Rock stared into Strazio’s eyes before suddenly craning his neck to address someone that the white-haired mage couldn’t see. “It means that ‘Dante’s Abyss: Conquest’ will soon be available in its entirety to new and existing subscribers for Syntech Prime, SynFlix, and Syntech+. This year the violence is in the tens of thousands. Don’t miss it!” Turning sharply back to his companion, the Rock coughed once more. “Until next time, Rockwell. Don’t die like a bitch,” he whispered before his head lolled the wayside and his heavy body settled into the expanding pool of blood.

Beatrix III is dead. Bitch has Immortal, so they’ll just take her remains to the Syntech Revitalization Station and wait for her to wake up before shipping her back to Erde Nona.

Elise is dead. She will be reanimated in the Syntech Revitalization Station and provided with Transit back to the World of her selection.

The Rock is dead.

 

[Karl Jak]

Face to Face
“The Gauntlet”
Ridley, Mirage, Stheno, Musashi, Azula, Roy Mustang, Altanis, Strazio Rockwell, Karl UnJak​

There were less of the cybernetic killers, but that meant little in the grand scheme of things.

Stheno stumbled backward as another Jason stomped toward her. Vision glued onto the killer, the gorgon grabbed for a piece of nearby stone and hurtled it at the silent hulk’s metal visage. There was a puff of orange dust as the tiling exploded into nonexistence on impact, but otherwise, there was little stop on Jason’s step.

“Come on,” she rasped through some blood in her mouth. Elsewhere in the Vault, various types of flames flashed as one of the numerous fire-manipulating soldiers did their best to melt away one of the silent marauders.

As her particular Jason drew closer, Stheno grabbed the machete from behind her back and swung it up at her foe’s neck. Rather than duck or retreat, the cyborg merely held up a forearm to intercept the loud, clanging impact of the machete, and when flesh and steel weren’t compromised by the strike, Jason once again drove his fist into Stheno’s chest. Thrown backwards once again, the warrior crawled back to her feet. Despite the impact and the patch of fabric and skin sheered off by her crash into to floor, the gorgon had kept hold of the machete, which she now clasped with two hands.

Willing to silently oblige, Jason quickly closed the gap between himself and the ailing warrior. On this occasion, Stheno opted to step forward and drive the machete up into the behemoth’s side. While the skin was resilient, there were few left alive who would win an arm-wrestling match with Stheno. With the machete firmly entrenched in the emaciated yet somehow slimy flesh of the cyborg, the gorgon turned her paralyzing eyes onto her foe as she quite literally attempted to bash in Jason’s metal face.

Although he moved with less precision than earlier, Stheno still found a little too much willingness to retaliate from Jason as he blows collapsed the front of his face. “Die!” The gorgon rasped she grabbed hold of the metal face plate and tore it away. Without missing a beat, she then inverted it and drove it straight down into the cyborg’s grotesque visage. At that, Jason finally seemed to lose a step, and after a moment of wavering, yet another cybernetic serial killer crashed to the ground.

As she brushed away some of the blood and fleshy bits from her face and chest, Stheno suddenly became aware of the two shadows that had fallen over her.

A smile spread across her face.

“So that’s how it is.”

***​

Azula had been within earshot when she heard Stheno’s screams and heard the sound of flesh being torn away from bone, but the young woman already knew she was too late to do anything as bones started to snap.

Something bumped into the fire princess from behind, and she spun just in time to see Karl UnJak. The executive producer pressed a knife into her chest, shushed her, and cartwheeled away before she could burn the smug look of his face. As the unmade man danced away, Azula’s eyes caught another struggling unfolding nearby.

Altanis, the Hell Diver general, telekinetically scooped up the nearest sharp implements she could find and turned them against her pursuing Jason. The machetes sank into the cybernetically augmented killers’ flesh but did little else to stop its pursuit. A burst of flames paused the Jason long enough for the four-legged soldier to see that battle had been joined by … an old friend.

“There’s another behind me,” Azula rasped as she ducked, allowing Altanis a clear field of view at the second Jason Voorhees. Willing her trident into her hand, the general hurtled the weapon for the killers throat as she turned back to her own foe. With Jason having closed the distance, Altanis reacted quickly and lashed out with her tongue. The lashing strike cleaved away the flesh around her foe’s neck, but it wasn’t enough to fell the killer, who swayed in place for a moment before breaking out into another unyielding march toward his intended prey.

Bereft of weapons, Altanis backpedaled as a spray of flames splashed over the advancing Jason. Seeing her opening, the former general stuck out a hand and yanked the machete out of the cyborg’s iron grip. Once the weapon was in the air, Altanis spun it around and drove it through her would-be killer’s throat.

The headless corpse collapsed a beat later, and the general let out a sigh before pivoting to address Azula.

“Th—”

Altanis’ eyes went wide as the knife was driven through her right eye socket. Before the general could process what had happened, she was consumed in a blast of fire that spread across her body as if she was made from dry kindling.

Dropping down her front knees, Altanis saw the little figure approach her as the pain became unbearable.

“I never forget,” Azula rasped before bashing Altanis’ skull into a fine paste with a piece of sandstone brick.

Stheno is dead. She will be reanimated in the Syntech Revitalization Station and provided with Transit back to the World of her selection.

Altanis is dead. She will be reanimated in the Syntech Revitalization Station and provided with Transit back to the World of her selection.

The area where you’re fighting is like… I unno, the basement equivalent of a pyramid. Part of it is natural formations, other parts are more manmade construction.

There are roughly 5 Uber Jasons remaining. All could probably easily maim your character on their own, especially after all the nonsense leading up to this point.

You have 4 days and 1500 words. Deadline is 8/8 at 9 AM CDT.

 

[Miyamoto Musashi]

Refreshing rays of sunlight danced upon the dragon and his would-be slayer as the pyramid’s ceiling began to collapse, crushing the floor with honed boulders that grew with each cave in. With the light, a realization dawned. The fight had raged on for so long that the outside world and its meaning had long since vanished into the lurking shadows.

Yet, the sun illuminated what the darkness sought to hide away.

The vengeance that Shinmen Musashi had sworn to deliver for Zenitsu rang hollow. Her tactics sought for her own demise - a release from her inner demons, rather than to avenge her fallen comrade. It dulled her blade and gnawed at her success.

It was unacceptable.

Stones began to quake beneath the ronin’s heels, but Musashi’s heart ventured back to those two scrolls. One red, another yellow. The crimson retained and the gold cast into the fires that released Zenitsu’s soul into the winds.

The duality of colours wove together as they formed a brilliant, shining blade within the girl’s mind. The glowing katana raised to its apex as she swung and the light began to rip and tear through the darkness and solace of her own consciousness, shattering the shackles that had held her.

Shinmen Musashi-no-Kami Fujiwara-no-Harunobu would deliver upon her oath.

Ridley would meet his end.

-----

Eyes opening to reality, Musashi found her foe similarly distracted by their collapsing surroundings. Yet, the Pirate seemed to sense her as he snapped to. Jaws parted and plasma fired.

The swordsman’s heel drove into the stone, propelling her forward with newfound fervor. Ducking the plasma and rolling beside the outstretching tail, her blades came to clash with the dragon’s claws. Teeth barely avoided as she twisted out of his way as the ronin leapt for the skies.

The returning tail swung beneath her harmlessly, as the steel plates of the appendage began to cry. Ridley was forcing the damn thing to a halt to narrowly avoid obliterating his own chestplate and fuel cells. That would’ve been a fitting end, yet Musashi hadn’t quite obliterated his control enough for that.

Musashi’s heels landed upon the halted tail, flashing the brightest of smiles to that glowing, furious eye. In a bout of rage, the unmade general swung his tail beneath her, sending the ronin flying overhead.

With muscles crying for relief and respite, the swordmaster forced her body to contort past yet more plasma as she fell. Jamming her katanas into the crevices between Ridley’s armor plating, Musashi secured herself upon his back.

“I’m hitching a ride!” she quipped, driving the Pirate’s humiliation deeper with a hint of sun refreshed glee bleeding onto her bloodied visage once more.

Roaring in agony, Ridley’s still functional wing unfurled in its magnificence. With the other already jammed open by Musashi’s earlier efforts, the pair fell into a magnificent glide as the floor beneath them finally gave away.

Just once, his tail sought for her death. After nearly sending the unlikely pair into a crash, the proud pirate came to a realization. With his damaged wing, he needed that damn tail for maintaining balance, rather than murder.

Murder would come after landing. Of that he was certain.

The dragon’s claws dug into the stone below as the pair landed, screeching to a halt. Musashi was quick to retreat. With her swords pulled free from the dragon’s back, her boots met the ground before his tail had the opportunity to disembowel her.

Chh chh chh... ahh ahh ahh…

With little warning, a Jason emerged from her left. The machina’s intentions and emotions rendered unreadable by that damn mask, Musashi couldn’t tell whether this one was here to avenge the earlier Holeson, or just to brutalize her for sport.

SWISH!

Her sword flew to defend against the down-coming cleaver. Her arm raised and her vision went white as the cleaver struck against her blade. The massive blow dropped the ronin down to a knee, as she struggled to hold her own against the hulking monstrosity, the agony of those burns pushing her arm down inch by inch.

CLA-CLINK!

Time seemed to slow as the swordsman’s eyes widened in disbelief. The hockey-jock continued to push against her, driving her deeper against the stone. The stalemate snapped together with the Helldiver provided sword that had served her faithfully throughout it all.

The fractured blade clattered onto the stones, cut clean in half. The cleaver crashed into the stone milliseconds after, shattering it effortlessly. Beside the cleaver carved pit in the stone, the green coloured blade dimmed, flickering as it shut down.

Then, the pain caught up, flaring across her chest as Musashi frantically glanced down. Her armor too, had finally reached a breaking point. The tip of the cleaver had torn cleanly through it and left a shallow mark upon her chest. It hurt like hell, but it wouldn’t be lethal. For now.

One thing was for certain though. She couldn’t afford to block them a second time.

As effortlessly as he had appeared Snapson tore the cleaver free from the stoneworks. And so it was raised again. This time for a lethal blow.

“She is mine!” the pirate roared as he brought the full force of his body against the robot. Steel crashing against steel, Ridley’s tail parried the cleaver with all its might as his claws claimed the Jason into a loving embrace.

The beast's neck rose and jaws opened. Diving like a kingfisher, the dragon engulfed his prey within that open maw. Merciless plasma surged forth. Bit by bit, that steel mask began to melt and disfigure. Scattering, the ronin decided to assist as the stub of a blade drove into the Snapson’s back.

The swordsman retreated and the Jason vanished in wisps of smoke, slinking into the shadows from whence it came. If old signs were true, they’d see it yet.

“I guess I should thank you for that?” Musashi spat, the taste of iron heavy on her tongue. “I’ll still kill you, y’know,” she remarked, as she drew Zenitsu’s blade into her free hand.

“You are mine,” Ridley hissed, his pummeled body lumbering to face her fully. They were each other’s prey, and each other’s alone. No disgusting cyborg would come in between that.

“Shall we, then?” the Vibrant Flower of Tengen offered a wistful smile as sakura petals began to dance around her once more. Her muscles cried and trembled, begging for relief that wouldn’t come. Pleading for an ending to this never-ending conflict before her body would fail her.

And they would.

Plasma fired again. Followed by the tail and claws, jaws and finally the tail again. The beast had patterns. By this point, she knew he wasn’t just trying to lure her in with them. They’d fought long and hard enough for that. He was simply a slave to his habits, further blinded by his fury.

And so, Shinmen Musashi dashed, dove and parried, slinking past the Pirate’s defences as her swords carved a painful cross into his chestplate.

He would charge, she would scurry away and retreat. Then Musashi would return with a relentless assault from behind. The cycle would repeat again and again. Her approach was always too different, too versatile and nimble to predict and counter.

Too varied, too wild, too hungry.

Until finally she made a mistake, boots driving into his back as she climbed him again. Triumphantly, the dragon’s visage curled into a twisted grin. He had her now!
The tail short forward, skirting close to his back. It promised to mangle and pierce the swordsman to his heart's content.

Bouncing, the ronin dove for her true target. Her remaining Helldiver-sword was swiftly driven into the misplaced tail, piercing through the weakness inflicted by her crosscut earlier. With the tail caught, the dragonslayer drove the blade into Ridley’s back, at least temporarily pinning the tail into place. One more threat neutralized, for now.

Ridley howled as Musashi broke to a laboured sprint, leaping skyward off of the dragon’s head. Upon landing, she retreated a short distance away, escaping beyond the trashing, agonized beast’s immediate reach.

Down to a single katana and with an unrelenting fire blazing in her eyes, Shinmen Musashi-no-Kami Fujiwara-no-Harunobu turned to face the furious, humiliated pirate.

Her eyes sought for Ridley’s as her hands settled upon the handle of Zenitsu’s beloved, pearl-white katana. She would take the blade meant for slaying demons, against one final demon. Its final prey.

The ronin’s gaze was momentarily drawn skyward, a saddened smile flashing across her visage. She would deliver upon her oath. It would not bring him back, but it would finally allow the boy to rest.

Veiled within a shower of fully bloomed and cascading sakura petals, the Vibrant Flower of Tengen orated to the Ridley for one final time.

“Two souls together,”
“Lovestruck lightning.”
“I will avenge you!”

1472 words according to G-docs.