Hallucinogen_NA

Percy Newman hurried through the building, trying to find his cubicle. His clothes were neat and well maintained, and he wore blue-rimmed round glasses. Between that and his perfectly combed black hair, the young man looked a lot more prepared than he actually was.

"Sorry I'm late!" he muttered to his boss as he ran into the little box, and sat down to type, hands at the keyboard. He grabbed a few papers off the side of his desk. . . He was scheduled to have begun work on the programming for the company's latest software an hour ago!

"Dammit, dammit, dammit," Percy muttered to himself, as he began typing furiously. He was going to get it for this. . .

But it was not long before he was wrapped up in his work. There simply seemed to be nothing he enjoyed as much as typing out line after line of code. . .

((I really hope I'm entering this properly, haha. I also hope it's okay that I'm using an existing character. I wonder if anyone will recognize him like this. . . ))

Hal's illusions dispersed, as he struggled to get up. . . But his body was beginning to glow, and wings were forming on the back of his head. . .

And Schizophrenias gleefully conjured a massive thorn filled with deadly poison, and hurled it at the weakened Ian in an attempt to impale him. . .

Schizo's leg had a few drops of rainbow colored blood on it from Naga's teeth. He grinned, and began dripping it on the floor, which started to release an odd sort of purple smoke.

Schizo went flying to the ground, but he was grinning. . . because the rainbow-colored blood he had dripped onto the field had started to boil, and a monstrous fish-man with blue coral embedded all over had risen out of it.

As Schizo intentionally failed to dodge Ian's next attack, intending to distract him, the Coralax breathed a wave of freezing cold at Ian. . .

Hallucinogen, meanwhile, had been hit by the sapstick. He struggled to get to his feet, let alone fight, but his illusions acted independently, and the phantoms and Phantasm continued their assault as their master tried to recover. . .

Hal looked sideways at Burning on the couch.

"Essex nice," he said. "Wife not so bad. You wike being awive?"

* * * * *

Moonscribe typed on thin air again. As he spelled out D-J-E-H-U-T-Y on an imaginary version of the electronic toy, objects nearby began levitating. Moonscribe smiled, and his oversized glasses flashed. "I weally no importance," he said happily.

Schizo laughed uproariously at being attacked and was soon floating around the room, tossing burrs at Naga and Reikoff.

Moonscribe continued to type, ignoring Archlich's cleaning efforts.

"D! J! E! H! U! T! Y!"

Lightning abruptly struck the electronic toy, causing it to smoke. Moonscribe did not seem to care, and toddled off, making typing motions with his fingers. His feet occasionally seemed to float off the ground for a second.

Hallucinogen stirred in Essex's arms. "Essex? Is dere weally any point to wife? Seems all futile an' meaningwess."

"D!" said the electronic toy cheerfully, as Moonscribe pressed the keys. "J! E! H! U! T! Y!"

Abruptly, a miniature storm cloud appeared over Moonscribe's head and began raining on him. Moonscribe laughed and clapped his hands as the rain soaked his towel.

Schizo, meanwhile, had floated over to Rosalind.

"You suck!" he cackled, and spit up all over her.

Hal had fallen asleep in Essex's arms.

"Hey, Hallucygen!" Schizophrenias yelled from Essex's back, tossing a bur at the green, smoky child. "You suck!"

Hallucinogen cried again.

"Dere, dere, Phawaoh," said Moonscribe. "Look, I dwaw a picshure of ancient Egypshun hiwogliphs."

Schizo grabbed gleefully onto Essex's back, grinning.

Hal stopped crying as soon as Essex picked him up, and rubbed his head affectionately against her shoulder.

Moonscribe, meanwhile, had taken out a piece of paper, and was doodling on it happily.

The doorbell rang, and the door opened of its own accord.

Sitting on the porch were three baby boys, one with a toy gas mask around its neck, and engulfed in green smoke. . . one in lurid purple clothing with burrs stuck to it, wearing a napkin around its eyes . . . and one in a blue towel, with oversized glasses on its head.

"Gweetings, Pwiestess," said the last, toddling inside. "We not of any impowtance."

"I strongest evew, 'cause I not exist!" laughed the purple child, floating inside, and tossing a burr at the green one.

The green one cried, and crawled inside, where it curled up and looked miserable.

The child in the blue "robe" spoke up in an official tone.

"I Moonscwibe. This Schizo. . . Schizo, ah, phweneez. Schizophweneez." He was pointing at the purple child.

"And this Hallucygen. We no importance." He tried to bow, and fell over.

"Well," Schizophrenias answered, "for one thing, I believe there are limiters placed on melee attacks in this competition. What, didn't know that?"

"However," Schizo continued, "I really think you should not bother attacking my neck. It really isn't any different from the rest of me. See, I'm not actually human."

Schizo popped a thorn and drove it through his neck. With a considerable amount of effort, thanks to the limiters, but it didn't stop him from driving one into his stomach and the exposed brain on his head.

"And now that we've cleared that up," said Schizo, as lurid rainbow-colored blood dripped from his body, "you can die." Waves of purple light poured from his hands that would convince anyone unable to resist that they were surrounded by their worst fears, and thorns followed.

* * * * * *

Hallucinogen, meanwhile, was flying around with his Phantasm, trying to dodge bullets. Several grazed his arms and shoulders, but the Phantasm continued firing, now at the turret, while Hal focused his attacks on Marcus.

And three figures had appeared out of nowhere. . . two appeared to be Hallucinogen, while the third was a small pink android girl. The Hals blasted more light at Marcus, and were shortly scooped up by illusionary Phantasms, while the girl shrieked at Marcus, sending waves of sonic energy.

All the figures were illusions, but they were so realistic that even someone who knew they were fake would at least be distracted. . .

((I think everyone is heading through a tunnel under their force field, heading for the island. As in, we're starting. Ignore Devious's posts and Prodiguy's responses to them, that's a "meanwhile, back at the farm/sinister island lair/whatever" kind of thing.))

Hal flew through the tunnel in turn, carried by his Phantasm.

Hal's Phantasm swooped in and carried Hal out of the way of the shot, although it was hit itself. Being made of light, however, it was hurt less than Hal would have been, and both Hal and the Phantasm fired more rays of light, aiming at right angles on either side of Marcus so he would be hit if he dodged in any direction other than forward.

Schizo, meanwhile, lunged with Ian's flip, releasing him but sending him much faster than he had intending, and firing thorns after him. . .

The attack hit, but Schizo grinned. Not only had the limiters greatly weakened the physical attack, but Schizo was humanoid only on a whim; he really had no weak points or vital organs, and whacking him in the neck was no more effective than whacking him on the arm.

Schizo's chin clamped down on the sword like a vice as it hit, so that Ian was stuck in place unless he could break free in time or let go of his sword. For similar reasons, he could appropriate muscles wherever they were needed. . . and just because, the counterattack of thorns was fired from his feet.

Meanwhile, Hal had become visible. . . but it was not going to remove the deadly radiation he was now pouring into Marcus, nor stop his Phantasm from continuing the assault.

((EDIT: I really hope a bokken is a sword. XD))

And the match begun.

Hallucinogen, predictably, disappeared, and his Phantasm took his place, firing blasts of light at Marcus. Schizophrenias, meanwhile, sprouted thorns and shot them from his arms at Ian.

"My teammate," Hal repeated. "This. . . is my sworn enemy, Schizophrenias. I am being. . . convinced. . . to fight beside him, but I would appreciate it if you did not call him my 'teammate'."

"Oh, and I think you are being paired with a Malta engineer . . . I believe his Master is a Samuel Reikoff."

Schizophrenias merely grinned maliciously at Ian. This would be fun.

And the match was ready to begin.

"I despise you," Hal muttered as he and Schizophrenias walked into the arena.

"Awww!" Schizo replied. "Thanks, buddy. That means a lot to me!"

The two of them waited for their opponents. . . Marcus Marcone and Ian Kelly.

((I want to start this up again, so I'll post something or other. And by the way. . . my characters are way more fleshed out now then they were when I entered this, thanks to other threads. So. . . they are likely to act quite differently. ))

Enrique was bored.

He really did not think much of Super Roby's fighting skills. They were effective, to be sure, but hardly much fun . . .

Ah yes, he had an idea. A smile lit his face, making him seem a little less than human. . . or perhaps a little more.

* * * * * *

"I have to WHAT?!?"

Hallucinogen had burst into purple flames. "No WAY! I point-blank refuse to team up with Schizophrenias! EVER!"

"Well," said Enrique, adjusting his glasses, "I am sorry you feel that way. But I am afraid you really have no choice."

Hallucinogen ran at the master, but simply went right through him, now somewhat dusty.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Enrique, smiling. "But I'm afraid this is only a sand-based projection . . ."

In short time, an exhibition match was announced by Master Enrique. It was a two on two match. . . whichever two challengers chose to step in, versus Hallucinogen and Schizophrenias.

The limiter was set so that melee attacks would be severely restricted, while ranged and area attacks were unaffected.

((I hope this is how you do this. . .))

"My Phantasm can carry me," Hal said, "but I won't be able to carry anyone else too easily. I'm not really that strong. . . sorry if I'm not much use. . ."

". . . I'm sorry, Essex," Hal said. "Yeah. . . okay, the island."

"As I said, I think we should go as a group. Many of us have abilities that can heal and protect many allies at once, and we would be wasting them if we went seperately, so. . ."

"We should really leave as soon as possible. I am ready any time . . . if anyone needs to know."

Hal sighed yet again. "Ginstar," he said, "why on EARTH do you think it is at all realistic for us to avoid detection? That sort of thing just doesn't happen. When we're all in different parts of this base or whatever it is, getting killed by various defenses because we're split up, I think we will wish we had stuck together, rather than used the strategy most commonly employed by Scooby-Doo."

". . . You know what?" said Hal, still sounding a little irritable. "Let's just WALK THROUGH. Because somehow, with all of us teleporting, superspeeding, jumping, and otherwise cavorting through the barrier in different ways, I don't think there will be very much teamwork."

"Dangit!" Hal muttered. "I wasn't going to attack anyone, why does everyone always assume I'm so out of control? Around Essex, anyway. . ."

He thought back to the cosmic chess game, when he had attempted to get Experiment to kill him over Essex's death. . .

". . .Eh. I suppose that's why."

Hal reverted to green smoke. "Dangit. . . now I'm not even allowed to defend her, I see, it's always the same, he wants to do everything, just wants her for himself, I actually try to think about what she wants, I. . ." His muttering faded away.