Name: Jason Collier
Level: 50
Global Handle: @Big Mike
Archetype: Scrapper
Primary: Katana
Secondary: Regen
Jason sat in his chair looking at the envelop that was left at the front desk of the facility. No one knew how it got there; it was just there in the morning. Jason sat in the recliner in his apartment in Kings Row, Whoever sent it knew he was competitive as hell and wouldnt turn down a challenge especially one that would give him the chance to work the rust off after taking a month off after being brutally tortured. The prize intrigued him, a wish granted, no matter how trivial. That was something different; if nothing else he would go and see what the big deal was about. After all, pretty soon he wouldnt have time to mess around since he was taking the CEO job at Stewart industries at the beginning of the year, the question is if he won, what would he wish for?
Jason packed his bags as his wife came into the room, She didnt have to ask the question he already knew it. I got a chance to try to get the rust off, Im gonna take it, Ill be home soon. He kissed her good bye and went down to the garage and started up his motorcycle, fishtailing before he shot out of the garage into the streets of Paragon.
Name: Dousojin
Level: 39
Global Handle: @Big Mike
Archetype: Defender
Primary: Kin
Secondary: Sonic
Jack Collier was hanging over the fire escape of the apartment he called home now, staring at the envelop, no one knew that he was actually Jasons kid, But there it was on the envelop. Jack Collier He sipped at a cup of coffee as the sun rose above the Row, but what would he wish for? To go Home? To help Rachel feel better about herself? What. The whole thing could be a set up against him for some reason. What if other people and things from where he came from made his way back from the future? Well there was only one way to know for sure, he decided he was going to enter. He jumped over the railing and sped off on foot.
There was a light pop and a little metal ball about half a foot across appeared in the air a dozen feet from Church. The ball hovered in place and extended out hundreds of wires that reached out about two feet, but left a slight gap directly under the sphere. White motes of light filtered through the wires and then fell to the ground at an ever increasing speed. Within half a minute, the light had gathered into a large, humanoid figure. Seconds after the figure was completely formed and light stopped falling from the matrix of the sphere, the light faded, revealing Brutish Ghoul.
The brute rolled his head, prompting a loud crack and reached up to grab the sphere, which had retracted all of its wires. Ghoul grabbed the sphere and crushed it in his hand, black energy flaring as he did so. Bits of metal tinkled to the dock as Ghoul brushed off his hands and looked around him.
"Nice digs," he said when he saw the ship. "When we going?"
"Look out below!" came a sudden shout from up above.
Ghoul looked up and then stepped back, opening the way for Solid Shot to touch down, crash, actually. The grey android slammed into the dock with a loud crash and flopped to the ground as the fires from the bottoms of his boots died down. After a second, Solid groaned and pushed himself to his feet. The reason for his uncontrolled crash was revealed as he started irritably scraping away a large clump of bird [censored] that had hit him right in the face.
"God damned birds have no respect," Solid muttered as he semi-blindly stumbled toward the water and shoved his head under. He pulled it out a few seconds later, now thankfully bird poop free, and seemed to glare at everyone around him, daring them to say anything.
The Wielder of the Painpipe chose a much more mundane method of transport than anyone else. A plain yellow taxi drove up to the end of the dockand disgorged the armored tanker. A loud, but brief, arguement started as Wielder tried to pay for the ride but the driver just wanted Wielder out. Eventually, the taxi sped away an Wielder shoved several bills back into a pouch on his belt.
"SO MUCH FOR SERVICE WITH A SMILE!" Wielder shouted to himself as he walked toward the group. Kairaishi's entourage stepped in front of him and Wielder waited for them to gain some distance on him before he started walking forward again.
"I WONDER HOW THIS TOURNAMENT SHALL WORK!" Wielder shouted to the bent lead pipe in his hand. "IT SEEMS TO BE RATHER COMPLICATED!"
Waiting a moment and the shrugging, Wielder slowly walked behind Kariraishi's puppets.
OOC: Note: Solid is now lvl 42 and Ghoul is now lvl 40. Just an fyi.
Statesman said let there be heroes, and there were heroes.
Lord Recluse said let there be villains, and there were villains.
NCsoft said let there be nothing, and there was nothing.
"Yes, it does appear somewhat complex," Moonscribe said, wearing a deep blue jacket, light shining off his glasses, though he was not looking at the sun. "And good day to you, Pharaoh." He was here, but he hadn't arrived. . . it was like he had been here all along. . . but he couldn't have been. . .
"Agh!" yelled a voice from out of thin air, and Hallucinogen's trademark green smoke burst into view, the hero having arrived invisible, and probably forgotten no one could see him as usual. "Moonscribe! Don't DO that, it's really creepy."
"Yes, I suppose it is," Moonscribe said calmly, foldling his hands and not looking at Hallucinogen. "But yes. Good day, Pharaoh, Pharaoh, Priestess, Pharaoh, Guardians, Priestess, Pharaoh, Pharaoh."
". . . What?" Hal said, facepalming. "You can't greet people like--"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" yelled a mad, demented voice, and in a blinding flash of sickening fuschia light, Schizophrenias appeared, laughing his head off. Literally. As his head fell onto the ground, still laughing, a second head grew from his neck laughing also, and he stopped to pick up the first head.
"Hey, Hal-chan!" Schizo cackled with both his heads in unison, grinning horribly from behind his blindfold. "You suck. Also I'm entering this tournament so I can wipe the floor with you all. And then you'll be DOUBLY losers because I'm a gimped dominator."
". . . Gah, where the heck is Essex?" Hal muttered, trying to pretend his other self wasn't there. Which he wasn't, in a sense. Honestly, no one really knew exactly what the hell was going on with them.
((Also, Moonscribe is now level 32 and Schizo 46. Another FYI.))
"Dunno, but man, if Dramabot IS coming then I freakin' quit." came Rosalind's voice as she sauntered up to the group. "Sup Ghoulie. Sup Schizo and Pedoboy, Gunbot '06, Reverend Moon. Who's the loud kid, the kung-fu chick, and the biker dude?" she asked, missing Kairaishi for the moment.
As Rosie approached, she drew close to Ghoul, knocking knuckles against his broad forearm, and examining her claws. "This seems like there might be some pretty good smashing going down."
"Golly, I hope not..." Essex's voice quietly piped up as she skimmed up to the group. She was wearing her power armor, an overprotective measure to be sure, the armor glowing brightly with energy. The double-shielded helmet was tucked under her arm as she approached.
"Hello everyone." she said, drawing near to Hal and Solid and away from Schizophrenias. "Gosh...there are a lot of people here already..."
Hallucinogen's radiation began to pick up another presence, just slightly before it faded into view.
"Ja...but I am glad to see that you, at least, are here...liebchen."
Zealstorm sneered down at Essex rather threateningly from where she sat, legs crossed, on a ledge overlooking the group. Her eyes were narrowed and a malicious grin was spread over her face as she eyed the smaller android.
"This ...will be fun."
[EDIT: Missed Term's post. *facepalm*]
Japancakes.
Art - Theme 005 - Seeking Solace
"I must agree," said a voice from behind Zealstorm. Blightlord stepped out of a column of darkness, his servants soon appearing behind him.
A fireball whizzed by his head. The undead lord glanced up to see Burning Brawler and Danica, the mage already preparing another one.
"Must we do this now? Save your energy for the tournament," Blightlord said with a sigh.
Danica held an arm on Burning's chest. "We'll get him later."
"What? But-"
She pointed at all the others. "Do we really want them to think we're going to try to kill them before a match or something?"
Burning grimaced as he let the fireball dissipate. "I guess you're right." The two descended to the ground. Burning glanced at the hole in the deck from the first fireball. "Sorry about that one," he said to Church.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
A pair of curious, watchful eyes peered out from above the branches of the trees nearest the dockside. The breeze of the sea ruffled her short fur, and the salty smell was inhaled into her nostrils, making her wriggle her nose in distaste. The sight of the ocean was still something Cypherr was unused to. So much vast space filled with nothing but churning waves made her a tad apprehensive, but the feeling was soon washed away as she chattered gleefully, watching the various colorful array of combatants start to arrive. She herself had already made herself comfortable on the island days before, after an exhausting and quite luck-filled search, leaving behind many a confused person wondering about the strange creature who had so persistantly asked for directions to "Abbot Stateses".
She curled her tail around a branch, easily swinging down and plopping to the ground with a soft 'thump!' on all fours. Her wide, eager eyes were attached to a pair of familiar faces she shockingly had recognized. In a blur of gray fur, Cypherr shot across the ground like a lit rocket, joyfully speeding towards Morgant. Within a few moments she collided forcefully into his side, a writhing ball of excitement as she mauled both the riders in a most overtly friendly fashion, screeching a chorus of: "SHINY AND BLUE! SHINY AND BLUUUUE!"
Down the beach, unbeknownst to the participants yet, two jet motorcycles sped along parallel to each other, crisscrossing back and forth between themselves in a stylish fashion. The bikes ran suprisingly well on the sand, but the two riders kept to the higher ground in care for their transportation nonetheless. As they cruised near to the gathering crowd, they paused just on the outskirts, their engines humming almost obnoxiously. Both the young men grinned, the sunlight reflecting almost cockily off their sunglasses as they did so, scanning their audience. They rather looked like part of a motorcycle gang of some sort, with their leather jackets and tall eyelet boots. Both had sleek, unruly black hair that wafted with the breeze. And both, most uneasily, looked like they were waiting for something.
Without warning, a third engine's shrill cry echoed throughout the air, as another motorcycle was gunned at an amazing speed down the stretch of beach, kicking up sand, dirt, and all form of debris. Droxiin launched herself off of a dangerously jagged pile of driftwood wedged under a broken crate, long since rotted by the moisture of the sea. It threw both her and the bike haphhazardly up into the air, straight over Kairaishi's little procession and quite more deliberately showoffish than Morgant's arrival. Unlike one would assume however, she did not land perfectly on the other side. Almost amazingly, and suicidally at that, she leaned her weight backwards. The entirity of the machine started to lurch upsidedown, and hang that way for a good, few, frightening moments. Any compassionate onlookers may have been mortified as they saw her nearing the ground, head aimed dead downward at a lethal angle, but with an amazing and almost desperate pressure of strength, the bike curved forward, landing on the front wheel and touching down shakily at best.
The motorcycle skidded to a halt, promptly spraying all of those within her landing area with a rude torrent of sand. Droxiin didn't seem to mind however, and whipped around with a blazing aura of triumph, a smirk on her face as she victoriously shouted at the two men, one of whom had long buried his head shamefully into his arms. The other simply leaned back, roaring with laughter.
"You SEE? You SEE? You said I couldn't do it, but I DID! THAT'S FIFTY BUCKS. Gimme. All mine. Now."
Hidden amongst the vegetation near where Cypherr once was, leaned Tragic Error comfortably against a tree trunk. Even as alert as Cypherr was, in her excitement she hadn't detected the woman cloaked so close to her perch. Tragic's eyes darted silently from combatant to combatant, making a mental log and evaluation of each person's strengths, weaknesses, and defining characteristics. It was a fairly swift process, and she shifted her legs, crossing one over the other smoothly as her gaze drifted along.
Most of their entries seemed either of the following categories: modest, casual, showy, or arrogant. Kairaishi's however, had thrust her thoughts into a bit of unwanted confusion.
Most odd procession. Carried by guards. Arrogant? Possibility. However, makeshift throne made from...trash. Trash: not usual symbol of wealth. Showy then perhaps not an option. However, guards doing labor, special treatment for individual perhaps means... procession: royal? Royalty of non-human species: possibility. Further investigation currently pending.
A small frown touched her lips as she stood perfectly still, making no attempt to unveil herself from her shadows as the group continued to swell with new and arriving members, observing their antics from a quiet, camouflaged distance.
Akiko yawned and eyed the congregation below. There looked to be a fairly large collection of heroes and villains. From her vantage, perched atop one of the cranes used for loading ships, they was more or less impossible to tell apart. That thought made her grin quietly to herself. It didn't really matter where they came from anyway, so long as they were here to fight.
She idly kicked her feet out above the drop and pondered. There seemed to be no more than the usual number of concealed snipers, and the Malta operation operating out of the werehouse two blocks down had been working on intercepting Longbow transmissions, not preparing for a large meta capture operation. There looked to be enough firepower arrayed below to give anyone trying to spring a trap a seriously bad day, too.
All in all, everything seemed to be on the level.
"Ah well." she muttered. "If I sit here all day trying to work out if that means I just haven't spotted the trap yet, I'll never get anything done. Time to make my entrance, I think."
She checked that her backpack was securely closed, hefted it over one shoulder, and stepped over the edge.
((Yes, I am quite aware that I suck at writing. *hangs head in shame* ))
((Anyway, for your viewing pleasure, Aki, in both screenshotty and arty form: 1 2 3 (Because I am an artist, and am thus an angst-ridden emo attention-[censored] and LOOK! AN OBVIOUS DISTRACTION! *runs*)))
"The gaping maw of your mind is filled with layered circles upon circles of bloody razors, I am finding."
- Twoflower
Cortianna raised an eyebrow as she watched the girl jump off the crane. The hovering telepath was resting up after flying from an outpost by the secret sponsors of the Infiltrators. It took some convincing to let her 'offical' guardian to agree to let her come, indeed in the end it came down to Mike realizing he really couldn't keep her in the isles if he wanted.
On another boat, Tamera King bounced lightly on the balls of her feet as the docks approched. She had hopped that she could've had Gwen come with her, but her grilfriend had commitments to help her school. Hefting her bag over her shoulder, the martial artist quickly judged the distence enough and lept from the deck for the docks and the people she saw.
Landing with a thump, she gave everyone broad, somewhat cocky grin. "Meow babe's, what's shakin'?"
The air behing Blightlord rippled, then burst in what appeared, at first glance, to be a Portal Corp gate. However, the gate was much smaller and gave the distinct appearence of not being as stable. Indeed, as soon as the figure cleared the threshhold, it collapsed.
The second Tamera gave everyone a faintly condencending look before settling on Tam.
"Great, I don't need to go looking for you after all. I can crush you here then take my pet back." Ally Khat sneered at her dimentional counterpart.
"Gwen dosen't belong to you, you psycho [bleep!]." Tam Khat growled, settling into a low crouch in preperation to fight.
"Enough, save it for the match." Cortianna telekinetically pushed both women away from eachother before settling to the ground and fading into general preception as she lowered her psionic cloak.
((Edit: Ok, images up. 
))
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
Jordan noticed all of the people around him. Green-guy with smoke erupting from him. Akiko. Morgant. Some other people he had never seen, or was too tired to recognize.
He sighed, and waited. Not much to do beforehand.
((Pics comming soon.))
"Thanks again for using your lunch break to give me a ride here, Keith." Ozell stepped out of the economy car, closing the door behind him- shutting it a bit too gently, it didn't close properly so he had to open and close it again.
"It's no problem, Ozell." The young man with short black hair called through the open window. "Make us proud!"
With a forced nod, Ozell whirled on his heels to face the docks and the ferry. Faced with the crowd of unknown and quite intimidating people, he did what any nervous kid would- make a beeline for the one person they knew really well. This happened to be Hal.
"Hallucinogen! Hey there!" He turned a bit of a nervous eye toward Schizo as well, but figured he wasn't too big of a threat.. at the moment.
------------------------------
Lyden was waiting in his jet-black vintage muscle car a short distance from the boat. He would make his presence known and board only when the final call was made- right now he was making a visual appraisal of his competition, and cross-referencing what he could see with the list of people his master had given him to watch out for. If anyone came close, he'd just look like any other kid, sitting in his car- though to the observant, the outlines and bulges of his bodysuit would be visable beneath the jacket and jeans.
---------------------------
If anyone made their way to the bow of the ferry, they'd find Tomanton. Valuing punctuality above much else, he had been one of the first to arrive- though, as under the weather as he was, having waited this long probably wasn't a good idea. His scarf was wrapped a couple times around his nose and mouth for good measure- occasionally he would pull it down to wipe his nose with a tissue, then fold it up and pocket it. If he wanted his wish granted, this was the first step.
Blightlord glanced at the two already fighting. "Catwomen? I thought this competition was supposed to be free of the weak," he said with a sneer.
Burning was watching Blightlord, as always. If the villain tried anything, Burning meant to make sure he was ashes before he had the chance.
Danica was standing back abit now, calmly surveying everyone. She somewhat hoped the two women arguing would fight so she could begin planning the easiest way the beat them early on.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Essex! Ozell!" Hal exclaimed, in relief. "Finally someone I know who's sane. Uh, no offense, Solid," he added, grinning at the grey-armored android. "But say you're sane with a stra--without lying," he corrected, as Solid's face did not actually tend to change.
"And what is wrong with being insane?" Schizo pouted, looking around at them all. When Droxiin arrived with a precarious stunt, he clapped. "Awesome! But you messed up the last part. Y'know, the part where you survived and all. Better luck next time!"
Meanwhile, Hal was glaring at Zealstorm's arrival. "What the heck do you want?" he growled, his eyes suddenly bursting into brilliant crimson flames as he placed himself between her and Essex. "I didn't think a fair fight was your style. Y'know, one in which anyone actually knows you're stalking them."
"Now, now, Priestesses," Moonscribe said, as Ally and Tam started to fight. "Fighting outside the competition is not going to solve anything. Do try to calm yourselves. Ah yes, and Ozell, Rosalind, all the rest of you. Good day to you all." He began bowing to everyone there in turn, though his smile seemed somehow less sincere when he bowed to Blightlord, Zealstorm and Schizophrenias.
Blightlord noticed Moonscribe's less than sincere expression. "You would do well to humble yourself before your betters. You and the rest of the false gods will not be long for this world."
Burning rolled his eyes. "I guess it'll be easier to take you down when you don't have a teammate cause you've alienated everyone here."
Blightlord cast a dark glance towards Burning before pretending the hero simply wasn't there.
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
((Decided to screw over waiting for everyone else? Yeah, that might be a wise thing to do. Sehk and Mike still haven't posted their introductions to the crew, and Essex...you never put up pics, even after I reminded you twice))
Kairaishi sputtered at the noise of the motorcycle. "Hubbababbahwhaaa?!" He shouted out, squirming in his chair as the Kabuki adjusted their grips, doing their best to keep him upright. Finally stopping his movement, Kairaishi blinked underneath his sakkat and lifted up the brim with a thumb. His eyes looked over--Droxiin, Renata, Akiko, AND Rosie. Oh, and Lyden, too, but he was lacking breasts.
Kairaishi shook his head and hopped off of his chair, and the Kabuki promptly dropped it unceremoniously from the ground. Reiketsu turned over to look at the Painpipe Wielder, one hand on its katana cautiously, while Bousatsu glared left and right at the opposition. Kairaishi simply strolled over next to Akiko, digging one finger in his ear and nodding over at the group. "Geeze. Lot of dorks here. Just another Fight Night, huh?"
Morgant and Celia both stumbled over with a squeal, both grinning and laughing and clinging to Cypherr as they hugged close to her. "Ah! Cypherr! Forsooth, 'tis a good thing to see thee hither--how hast thou been, pray tell? Hast been so long since we last saw thee!"
Scordatura, on the other hand, had grinned underneath her helmet once again at Rosalind's question. "Who am I? Well, lass, lemme learn ye..." She clapped her hands together and crouched down on the ground, on one knee with the other leg extended, both arms held in front of her face in an X. "I'm tha fingernail that scrapes across tha blackboard o' villainy! I'm tha terror that stalks through tha darkness..."
With a BAM, she slammed both hands on the ground, launching her up where she then flipped forward, landing on one leg with the other lifted up in front of her, arms spread wide to the side. "Tha shiver down ye spine...tha knowledge that ye cannae run far, nae matter how fast ye can run."
With another BAM, she stomped her free leg on the ground, launching herself back up into the air again, flipping once more, delivering a few spin-kicks at nothing in particular, each one causing a swift SNAP in the air. Landing on the ground with a WHUD, she crouched down low and leaned backwards, hands extended outwards and bunched outwards in a hadouken-esque pose. "Try as ye might, ye cannae stop me..."
She crouched down and did a sweep kick in front of her, once again aiming at nothing in particular, then standing up in full and lifting her hands above her in a Y. She leapt forward with a cartwheel, melding into three quick somersaults, until leaping once more with another flip and THUDDING on the ground, standing looking to the side with her head tilted over slightly over at the group, scarf once again billowing out dramatically behind her as firecrackers exploded out from under her, erupting a slew of blue smoke to finish the dramatic set of poses.
"...'Cause ye cannae ever stop tha ever-spinnin' wheels o' justice. I am...SCORDATURA!"
((I'm gonna post, gimmie time. Low board access lately))
((Meh. <_< I'm perfectly aware we're waiting for people. That doesn't mean I can't make ONE post to acknowledge the millions of things going on.))
((And now I'm only posting to post a team, which I assume you're supposed to do here. Just never seen anyone else do it. . .))
((And at risk of being rude, lay off Essex. Far as I can tell she can't make one mistake without the whole world screaming it. Rant over.))
((Team Name: Eternal Hope
Fighter 1: Hallucinogen - 50
Fighter 2: Essex - Reploid S6 - 37))
((That is all.))
((1: Like I said, screwing over waiting for people might be a wise thing to do. Otherwise, it'll take a month just for everyone to get on the ship, heh. It's taken over a week, and still not everyone has introduced themselves to the crew, and it's only a few days left until the deadline is met--unless, of course, you guys want me to extend that as well. Do you guys think we've postponed this long enough, though, or would you be patient and be willing to wait a bit more so everyone can respond in time and nobody's left behind? It's possible people aren't able to post because it's the Christmas week.
2: You would be correct, teams are posted in the topic or PM'd to me. Either works, whichever you're more comfortable with.
3: Your rant is met with plenty of amusement. Sure, I'll get off of her--if I ever get on her in the first place. Forgive me for gently reminding her of something in an open area where she can't forget about it as opposed to in-game whispers which can scroll off the screen and promptly be forgotten. I'll never do it again, I promise))
Jason watched Cortianna push aside the two seeminly alike catpeople and walked up to her. "'ey Cort, good to see you, you looking for someone to fight with in the tournament." He took off his glasses and looked to the girl. "I could use all the help I can get."
---
Dousojin looked around at the group of people that had assembled, he needed to find a partner, and fast.
Suddenly, in a billowing wind and a thick mist, Rulaag appeared with cracks of thunder, flanked by two Shivan Decimator Bio-Warriors.
The Alien said nothing, only looking around for Ozell....
((Team: Ozell One - 14/15 now (never can remember at low levels), Agent Rulaag - 15
Team name: Viper Corps (It'll make more sense later.)))
---
Ramier's entrance was just as pronounced, his giant Assault Bot crashing down with a thundering boom and the Soviet arriving in the blazing flash of a group-teleport with the rest of his robots.
((LFT <_<
)
[Sorry about the delay on my part, folks. Christmas stress, blah blah.]
Celia giggled as she found herself mauled by an overeager Cypherr, giving the little girl-creature a fond hug - and quietly thankful Morgant was done with his motorcycle stuntwork for the time being. She'd nearly lost her lunch on the last leap, and only by clinging desperately to the FPS knight had she managed to stay seated on the back of the bike. Next time, she decided, I'll fly under my own power.
****
Shade Panther perched carefully on one of the boat's guard-railings, peering down with a slightly wrinkled nose at the various contenders she may or may not end up facing. Huffing to herself, and grimacing once more as she felt a twinge twitch itself across her face, she straightened up, carefully balanced on the barred railing, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Surely there had to be a suitable... teammate out there, one that would be a help and not a hindrance.
(Shade is LFT.)
((Hum. Deadline has been extended, since less than half of the people are still without teams. New deadline is January 8th))
((Team posting time. Assuming we can actually get this to work in RP. 
Team Name: Burning Insanity
Fighter 1: Burning Brawler--50
Fighter 2: Schizophrenias--46))
"He's really a jerk, isn't he?" Schizo said, suddenly directly in front of Burning Brawler, grinning at the archmage, his arm bending over his shoulder to point at Blightlord. "Real [censored]. Betcha want to kill him, don't you? Like IRL and stuff!"
Hal turned to watch this exchange with a sort of appalled fascination.
"So guess what! I hang around in Grandville too and I see this joker all the time," Schizo continued, attempting to put his arm around Burning companionably. "Maybe if you join up with me I'll give you some dirt on him. Heard he's kinda annoying you and stuff. After all, we're probably gonna be knocked out in the first round and humiliated in front of everyone. Should take the edge off of it."
"First of all, I'm going to win this thing. I have to. Second, I would never-" Burning stopped himself for a moment. Yes, Schizophrenias was a villain, one who really should be stopped, especially before he reached his full potential. But Blightlord... He needed to be dealt with now...
"If you can prove you know something I don't... Then I'm in."
Arc ID: 475246, "Bringing a Lord to Power"
"I'm only a simple man trying to cling to my tomorrow. Every day. By any means necessary."
-Caldwell B. Cladwell
"Yesss! Yessss! Hasss beens very longs time shiny and blue! Cypherr is happies to sees yous again, yes."
After the initial pounce-greeting of her excitement, Cypherr had clambered off of the two and begun, rather enthusiastically, scampering about their feet in circles on all fours. She kicked up dust as she continued to round over and over again, a smile plastered quite energetically to her face, gurgling in an animalistic fashion.
"But Cypherr wondersss...why shiny and blue comes to big fights! Cypherr come... Cypherr not expect see shiny and blue come too!"
Droxiin only grinned at Schizo's curious comment. The two men who had accompanied her had parked their motorcycles a ways away, approaching her calmly and standing beside her own as she put down the kickstand and hopped off. They looked as though they were simply friends of hers, the way they were dressed and how they spoke. But the rigidity of their gazes as they scanned the rest of the combatants, if noticed, seemed quite strange.
Droxiin lifted a pair of black sunglasses she had been wearing, which had amazingly stayed on her face during her stunt. She surveyed the competition herself, and a confident smirk appeared on her face.
"Ah...nope. I seem very much alive. which must be of a great disappointment to many people here, cause I just KNOW some would've loved to see me fall. But I win, suckas."
Unbeknownst to all, Tragic Error had slipped, wraithlike, away from where she had once stood. She now made her way over to Church, stepping in calm, even strides. As she reached him she simply stared upwards, her face emotionless, seemingly paying no attention if anyone cared to look her way.
"...it has been observed you are perhaps an authority over one: Carlucci Combat Contest. If I may inquire, are there any rules against killing combatants within the arena?"
((Sign-ups close at Midnight tonight. You have until the 29th to make a team with other people, be it via PM, e-mail, in-game interaction, over-channel interaction, or something else entirely.
Here are the rules for a team:
1: No one AT is allowed to be both members. I.E., a single team can't be composed of two Masterminds, two Defenders, two Dominators, two Peacebringers, and sure as hell not two Stalkers. The exception are Scrappers, Brutes, and Tanks, as they get no mez advantages from teaming, aside from DM/Spines Scrappers, DM/ or /DA Brutes, or /Ice Tanks. Thankfully, though, we have woefully few of them.
2: Please post your team in the following format:
Team Name: Name here
Fighter 1: Character Name/Alternate Character - Level/Level
Fighter 2: Character Name/Alternate Character - Level/Level
Pictures are preferable, hopefully in the following posts as you introduce your characters-- http://xs.to is an easy-to-use, free hosting service, and you don't even have to sign up for it.
If you absolutely CANNOT post a pic of your char, though, or REALLY don't want to, then, no, you don't have to. But don't lack a pic just with the excuse "meh, everyone knows what I look like", because, believe me...we don't.
EXAMPLE:
Team Name: Knight Lost and White Frost
Fighter 1: Sir Morgant/Templar Morgant - 31/14
Fighter 2: Lady Permafrost/Baroness Frost - 35/11
3: YOU ARE GOING TO SUPPORT YOUR TEAMMATE. I don't CARE if your character is an [censored], you WILL be supportive to your teammate. You don't have to be nice, no, but you are NOT going to be a dick to him/her. Your character entered fully aware that it was a 2v2, and thus, he or she would need a teammate. Teams fall apart when there is infighting, and I am NOT going to see somebody deprived of victory and the RP go sour because of it just because they couldn't damn well work together.
Don't be a dick, be nice to each other, keep a friendly attitude, and have fun! Very few people consider assholism to be entertaining, ESPECIALLY if they're on the receiving end. Sure, you can be evil, diabolical, and nasty, but there's a fine line between that and outright dickery.
The RP has officially begun. ))
Church looked up at the sky, scratching his bearded face with one hand. The sea surrounding the dock he was standing on hssssssed and crrrrrshed, the large cruise ship he was using to transport the fighters to Carnate Island.
Today was the day.
The invitations were sent, and like fishing, he only had to wait for the result to come to him. A follow-up letter had been sent to each of the fighters, telling them where to go, that they would be riding a ship, and who to expect--Church himself. They could arrive here and mingle with the other ship riders, or they could go straight to Carnate, if they wanted. But either way, today was the day. From here on...combat would reign supreme.
There were already hundreds of people scrambling to watch. His hunch was right.
He smirked in satisfaction, crossing his burly arms and hmfing.
He could already hear the first few combatants coming to arrive.
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!
The roar of Morgant's motorcycle ruptured any peace that had been there moments before, as the vehicle and the two passengers soared through the air, having blazed off a haphazard ramp (really a tipped-over-and-vandalized billboard) across two roads and onto an "out of service" bridge where the road broke off into air--landing down with a heavy WHUMP, the rider leaned over heavily to the side, causing the wheels to screech in protest as the cycle tilted, rubber shoving against concrete to halt its forward movement and turn to the side.
Morgant's eyes were narrowed in concentration behind the visor of his biking helmet, his trenchcoat whipping in the wind--well, as much as it could when Celia was right behind him, holding onto him and sitting on it. Hitting the NOS button on his dashboard, green flames spewed out of his exhaust pipe as his speed proceeded to rocket, wind whipping the long hair underneath his helmet. He expertly swerved in between cars, bikes, and other cycles, keeping his eye on the left side of the bridge, peering at the ground below. Noticing a dock nearby, he nodded and gently leaned to the side, sending the vehicle across the concrete barrier like a ramp. They all hung in the air for ten seconds, plummetting down several stories to WHACK down on the ground with force, causing him to smack his helmeted forehead into the dashboard, cracking the visor.
Shaking his head and lifting it back up, he continue drive along the dock, but at a (thankfully) much slower pace.
Kairaishi's entrance was a lot less noteworthy. He had no high-adrenaline motorcycle ramps to announce his presence, nor a possible concussion that was prevented only by protective headgear. He was, however, watching from afar, literally being carried by the Kabuki that always followed him around, Reiketsu and Bousatsu. Holding a makeshift throne made out of broken car parts with pillows and leather acting as cushioning, held up by two bars of rebar that rested on both of the Kabuki's shoulders. He sat on the chair, napping as he usually did in his spare time--the kabuki continued to dutifully carry him, being the puppets they were, marching forth onward to Church at a steady pace. Reiketsu's eyes narrowed as he focused upon Morgant, and the knight's eyes narrowed in return. Both Kairaishi and Morgant had crossed each other's paths more than once--the results were never pretty.
Scordatura, however, had been on the ship to begin with. She was perching effortlessly with perfect balance on the flagpole, arms crossed and scarf billowing in the wind dramatically as her armored boots stood on the flagpole top, held in place only by amazing reflexes...well, magnets helped, too. She tilted her hooded helmet down to look at the three new arrivals--Celia, Kairaishi, and Morgant. Well, perhaps five, if Reiketsu and Bousatsu counted as arrivals.
"Ooooh, aye. A lass c'n get used tae this." She grinned underneath her helmet as she quickly vaulted up off of the pole, flipping forward once in the air as she fell down, feet planted against the edge of the pool to slide down it at a fast pace, then bounding off of it with another flip, clearing the ship and water in a single leap, landing on the wood with a THUD, down one knee, her hood titled down to the ground, scarf wrapped around her form. She then stood up fully, slowly, hood obscuring every part of her helmet aside from the visor which proceeded to glint, scarf let go to expand out and flap wildly in the wind behind her.
"Le's git this show onna road."