Burning grimaced. He was hoping he maybe COULD have gotten Schizo to spill all the info. Looks like he'd actually have to go through with this team thing...
Blightlord had been watching the exchange closely, unsure whether to be angry, flattered, or smug. Somehow, he found a balance.
[ QUOTE ]
"Honestly," Schizo sighed as the cackling fruit disappeared. "Where did he come from?"
[/ QUOTE ]
"My beginnings are far beyond even your imagination," he said, coldly staring at Schizophrenias.
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
Morgant had unholstered Vangelis, lifting the rifle over his shoulder and brushing off the runes, which glowed the dim red they normally did--Vangelis was a living weapon, an ancient artifact, and it was just as trigger-happy as its wielder was. It could sense the prospect of combat nearby, and it wanted, no, DEMANDED dibs.
"Why 'tis simple, Cypherr...a wish holds great power. And we intend upon using that power to our total and full ability."
Church's eyes were closed and his arms crossed as he listened to the combatants mingle. Already, there were alliances forming. Good.
At Tragic Error's question, he didn't even open his eyes, but nodded simply. "In the arenas, kill, defeat, or maim as you want. Out of the arenas, keep the attacking each other to a minimum, and no permanent injuries."
He then cleared his throat. "COMBATANTS! Please make your way to the boat, so we can set sail to Abbot penitentiary."
Blightlord nodded and proceeded to make his way to the boat, his Knights Muck and Guck, as well as Grime followed.
Burning and Danica walked together onto the boot. "Listen, I heard you talking to that Schizophrenias," she said.
"I know, but if he really can help me defeat Blightlord, then it'll make getting Void back that much easier," Brawler replied. Danica nodded, though she didn't seem too sure.
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
The King 'twins', both knocked back by the psychics telekinetics, shot the purple-haired girl a glare before meeting the others eyes.
"In the arena kitty. I'll take great pleasure in crushing you." Ally growled before smoothing some of her fur and pointedly turning her back on Tam. She spotted Blightlord andarched a brow, recalling some of what they others had said. She shouldered by the Grave Knights with the subtlyty of an air raid siren. They were dead already, they probably would be able to feel any pain from the straight arming. "Hey! Bli.... something or another... Interested in having some actual talent in the arena?"
Cortianna shock her head and turned toward Jason. She looked him up and down before allowing a slight smile to cross her face. "Mr. Collier. I do owe you for the help you gave me with the medications. I would like to help you."
Tam glared at her other dimensional twin a moment more. "Feh." She thumbed at her nose before looking at the others, most of the people she didn't recognize, some in passing though. She irritibly tapped a foot rapidly, she needed someone to partner with, and it had to be someone who could keep up with her.
((Team: Cutting Wit
Member: Jason Collier - 50
Member: Cortianna - 26
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
Blightlord cast a glance at the catgirl and sneered. "Why yes, I am. Do you know where some can be found?" he said, continuing his walk toward the bow of the ship.
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
Ally's ear flickered and her eyes narrowed at the necromancer. She stalked up to him and positioned herself inches from his face.
"Listen you postering man. We need a partner for this to even get to the first [censoered] round. I don't particularly care for you, but my magic senses tell me you have a more then passing skill. But if you think those three," She casually waved to the lich and the two Knights she had rammed past, "Are going to be enough, you are blind. I'm not foolish enough to think my strength can win over the others." She settled back, hands on her hips and tail lashing.
"Look, I'm just proposing a temporary allience. Once we win we can figure out if we want to kill the other or not. Deal?"
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
Blightlord looked at the others on the boat. They were all as pathetic as the next. "An alliance it is. But know this, should you fail on your end..." He let it drop at that and walked away.
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
The Kid was wearing a slouch head and dark coat and darted around the room till he spot Tam, He's worked with her before in Croatoa and could keep up with someone like her, A lot like his sister. "Tam was it? You need a partner, for the tourney that is?" He smirked and tilted his head. "I might just be the guy you're looking for."
(( Bah. Sorry I haven't been around much. Family stuff and such. I am, however, back now.
Unfortunately, my ability to write has completely deserted me, so ping me on @PyroICFF or @PyroICFFII iffen you wish to arrange teh RPx0rz. I'm on most days.
Also:
Team: [Insert Name Here]
Member: Blazing Angel Akiko - 50
Member: Jordan Norris - 50 ))
"The gaping maw of your mind is filled with layered circles upon circles of bloody razors, I am finding."
- Twoflower
((No Jordan Norris ever signed up. A Jordan Vailo did, but no Jordan Norris. If Jordan Norris wanted to compete, he should have signed on as an alt of Vailo))
(( And on that note: Doh!
... I don't suppose Kairaishi still needs a teammate? I think Vailo's been deleted. Or possibly rerolled. Either way. ^^; ))
"The gaping maw of your mind is filled with layered circles upon circles of bloody razors, I am finding."
- Twoflower
((Team: Fire and Brimstone
Member: Blazing Angel Akiko - 50
Member: Kairaishi - 29))
Kairaishi made his way onto the boat, already chatting happily with his teammate, who followed. Both Akiko and Kairaishi were acquaintances, and both were incredibly interested in the thrill of combat. The kabuki simply continued to trail behind quietly, though Reiketsu kept his eye on both Solid Shot and Sir Morgant, snorting underneath his mask at them both.
[ QUOTE ]
He then cleared his throat. "COMBATANTS! Please make your way to the boat, so we can set sail to Abbot penitentiary."
[/ QUOTE ]
"Rulaag! It's good to see you made it." Ozell gave a nod, hoisting his rather hefty gym bag over his shoulder. "Come on, let's get on so we can find somewhere good to sit and plan this out."
With another nod to Hal and crew, Ozell turned and boldly stepped toward the boat.
--------------
Hearing the call, Lyden stepped out of his car- gently shutting the door, locking it, fluffing the collar of his jacket, and shuffling off toward the boat. He kept his head down, and his shoulders somewhat up- aside from his orange hair, he looked more or less like a normal person. For those that knew him, he might even be slightly hard to tell apart from his older brother Topaz.
-----------
Tomanton, already at the bow of the boat, didn't move- only drawing another long, labored breath. This was going to be a long trip for him.
Tam looked over at Jack and grined widely.
"Hey, what'er you doing here? Bah, never mind stupid question. Competing of course. Partner up with you huh?" She walked around the teen and slapped him roughly across the back. "Sounds great!"
((Team Speed
Fighter One: Tam Khat - 32
Fighter Two: Dousojin - 40))
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
Ramier surveyed the others with an air of a man who would really prefer to go it alone.
Nonetheless, to win, he'd need a teammate, and so he searched for anyone left that was somewhat skilled....
---
Rulaag silently nodded to Ozell, stepping up the gangplank with the methodical steps of a calculating mind.
Cypherr had cocked her head to the side in a curious manner, ceasing her scampering and plopping down lazily at Morgant's feet, looking up with a persistant and inquisitive expression, obviously not paying attention to the order to board the boat.
"Whasss...wissshes?"
Droxiin waved off the comment with a dismissive hand, motioning to her partners and sauntering almost boredly onto the boat. All three of them made their way to the nearest open space, leaving their motorcycles suspiciously behind, and formed a triangle on the floor as they sat down. One of the men immediately pulled out a deck of playing cards, and tossed them to Droxiin. She caught them, pulling them out of the box and nimbly thumbing through the deck, a smirk on her face as she started shuffling with the skill of a trained dealer from Vegas. Their small group seemed completely preoccupied with the cards, ignoring the other boarders for the most part as she dealt them out.
"Alright, game is Texas Hold 'Em, place your bets, boys..."
Tragic Error gazed up at Church, staring blankly for a moment before speaking.
"Your answer is most appreciated. Death of combatants: allowed. Excellent."
Without another word, she silently boarded the ship, slipping past people in a cool, ghostlike manner, as if she didn't exist whatsoever and was nothing but a floating specter in the air. She swiftly made her way to the quietest, most remote corner of the watercraft where she was the least noticeable. Her eyes scanned everyone yet again as they entered, and after a moment she removed a small laptop computer from a backpack she had been carrying alongside her. She spread it out on her lap as she sat and opened it up, at once becoming completely absorbed in it as her fingertips graced the keys, only the quiet tap tap tap of her typing echoing in the air around her.
"Ah, good day to you," Moonscribe said from behind Tomanton. It was difficult to figure out exactly when he had gotten there, actually. . .
Meanwhile, Hal had taken Essex's hand and was helping her into the boat. Not that she appeared to need any help. Perhaps he was simply operating on the principle of the thing.
And Schizo cackled, rose into the air, and shot straight onto the deck in a streak of purple miasma, connecting with a loud THUNK. "AND SO IT BEGINS!" he declared. "THE BLOODY, AGONIZING, GRISLY CONTEST OF DEATH SHALL NOW COMME--"
"I doubt they are going to let us die permanently," Moonscribe said, still regarding Tomanton with hands folded at his waist.
"Awwwwww!" Schizo said, looking very disappointed.
With eyes half-narrowed (or half-closed, it was hard to tell), Tomanton turned to regard Moonscribe with a snort. Being a bit under the weather as he was, he seemed a little put off by the glint on his glasses... "Hello, ...scholar." At least, that was Toman's guess as to what he was. While he wasn't overtly familar with Moonscribe himself, he was a little surprised a good deal of the participants were people he knew of... and thus had information on.
Lyden, making his way to the front of the boat as well, felt that he no longer had any reason to keep his bulky clothes on over his armor. Affixing his mask to his face and beginning to shuffle out of it, it was down around his arms when he paused to lean back against one of the ferry's walls and stare out at the ocean.
"Ah, and good day to you as well," Moonscribe said, nodding to Lyden as he approached. He was frowning all of a sudden.
"Really. That is most unfortunate," he muttered to no one in particular. . . who was visible, anyway, but there was a distinct and unnerving feeling of someone being there to hear it.
The robed man turned to look directly at Lyden, adjusting his glasses and causing light to flash off them for a brief second. "I have never met you before and have no idea who you are," he remarked, smiling politely at the GSR Unit. "Would you care to join forces?"
"Gah, he's doing it AGAIN," Hal groaned in the background, facepalming.
Burning glanced towards Schizo, starting to regret his decision. He was in this thing to get rid of evil, not make more of it.
"Don't worry about it," said Danica as she walked up from behind Hallucinogen. "I've figured out if you think of Moonscribe as a sort of narrator, it isn't half as creepy when he does that."
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
Lyden glanced up at Moonscribe, allowing his jacket to fall off the rest of the way to show his full upper armor.
[ QUOTE ]
The robed man turned to look directly at Lyden, adjusting his glasses and causing light to flash off them for a brief second. "I have never met you before and have no idea who you are," he remarked, smiling politely at the GSR Unit. "Would you care to join forces?"
[/ QUOTE ]
For a minute, Lyden looked him squarely in the eyes. As they focused, they seemed to darken and swirl with negative energy, such as it was when he was in intense thought.. then, blinking, any traces of the stuff were gone. He nodded to Moonscribe and adjusted into an at-ease position.
"Affirmative. Unit Lyden will assist."
Tomanton, seeing the pairing, turned back away- it was no longer worth his time. As he made one last sweep of his field of vision before resigning himself to looking out at the ocean, his gaze momentarily fell on Scordatura- and stayed there.
"..."
((Very well then, here by special request...))
The conference room sat in twilight. Only the pale-blue projected hologram that spanned the long table cast any light through the darkened room. Symbol chains played across it in a seemingly random fashion.
"Looks like things won't handle themselves this time." mumbled one of the figures gathered about the table's seats.
"Agreed." nodded the one at the head of the table, "But we need to be sure. The plan's only good if we're sure."
"If it's not, I'll improvise." chuckled the figure at the other end, "There's more than one reason they call me a mastermind down there. Either way, I don't think we can wait any longer."
"I've gotta go with Ace on this one." stated a figure who seemed shorter than the others, "If this goes awry, it could ruin a lot of things we've worked very hard for."
"Alright. I accept your terms."
"I knew you would." the figure at table's end reached for the embedded intercom, "Helm, standby to end linear manuever in six point three minutes."
"Acknowledged."
The channel closed again, and the figure went on, "I'll be getting my fighter ready for hard drop then. Al, I'll meet you in the hangar two minutes before I leave..."
--------------------
As the combatants made their respective ways onto the ship far below, a suddenly appeared object pierced the clouds. Ramming its way through the upper atmosphere, it took on the appearsance of a meteor, and if anyone could perceive this, its size corresponded to roughly that of a large human.
It descended quickly on its crash course and took only seconds before crashing into the sea not far from the ship. The water bubbled and hissed as steam rose from the now-boiling impact site.
Not long after, a figure in a plain-gray robe and hood made its appearance. Seemingly appeared from nowhere at all, this seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. It stepped - no, it almost seemed to glide in a manner of speaking - from behind the main superstructure and made its way to the gangplank.
If the figure had a face, it was not visible under the hood, and though no eyes could be seen, everyone could practically feel the gaze of the new arrival as it surveyed the combatants.
"Ramier Khastrovitch." it finally spoke in a low, yet gentle tone as it spotted the Soviet, "You're looking for an ally."
It was a statement, not a question, but its meaning was quite clear...
((/invite Ramier Khastrovitch 
If accepted, here's Team Tundra
Fighter 1: Ramier Khastrovitch - 33, mastermind
Fighter 2: ??? - ?, ???
Also, the other teams I found again:
Team Name: Eternal Hope
Fighter 1: Hallucinogen - 50, controller
Fighter 2: Essex - Reploid S6 - 37, defender
Team Name: Viper Corps
Fighter 1: Ozell One - level debated, scrapper
Fighter 2: Agent Rulaag - level increased, defender
Team Name: Burning Insanity
Fighter 1: Burning Brawler - 50, blaster
Fighter 2: Schizophrenias - 46, dominator
Team: Cutting Wit
Member: Jason Collier - 50
Member: Cortianna - 26
Team: Fire and Brimstone
Member: Blazing Angel Akiko - 50
Member: Kairaishi - 29
Team Speed
Fighter One: Tam Khat - 32
Fighter Two: Dousojin - 40
That is all, carry on. 
))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
The gaze upon Scordatura was met and returned. He had simply gazed upon her, but that had alerted her radar and caused her to return the glance. She quickly vaulted up from her position--she seemed fond of jumping and leaping around at least. With a single bound, she lunged over to his location and landed with a WHUMP on the boat railing he was standing in front of. She stood there on simply one foot, other leg lifted up and crossed in front of the first to make a 4, arms spread wide to the side.
She said simply one word at him. "'Allo."
Tomanton snorted as he glanced to her, eyes half-narrowed, as any other skeptic would. However, if it were possible, her visor would recognise something very different about his gaze- the placement. He was not looking at her visor, but beyond it- to her eyes, and making contact. It was impossible to see through to the person behind them, of course- but he knew it wasn't just a soulless machine. Still, of all the things she may have done, this he expected the least. "..That was prompt."
Scordatura seemed addicted to flipping, though, and promptly let off another leap, bounding over his head and landing directly behind him dusting off the arms of her armor, then turning around to face him. "Well, lad, when people're oglin' at me, I tend tae notice it. Though I'd like tae think yer admirin' me technique, I've go' a feelin' it's summat other than tha'. So, wot's up?"
"First, they didn't invite you here because you're from the circus." He said flatly. "Second, distracting as it may be, I've seen enough to know that there's a good chance that your style will complement my own- attention off of me is paramount to my work. Finally," Said the red-skinned extraterrestrial prince to the blue-clad henshin warrior, "...We appear to be worlds apart. I highly doubt your wish, whatever it may be, will be at cross-purposes to mine. ...I think we would do well together."
Her head tilted from side to side, a loud crack echoing out from underneath her armor. "Speed. Swiftness. An' power. Ain't nae any substitute fer them, lad, 'cept mebbe silence an' grace. If attention's needed off o' ye, lad, then believe me, I'll be more than happy tae take it from ye." She extended her hand to him. "Team. Ye can call me Scordatura."
"And I am called Tomanton." He met her hand with one of his own, shaking firmly and bowing his head slightly. "I won't regret this venture."
Church made special note of each contestant--he noticed that some were automatically aligning themselves with their allies, but he noticed that some preferred to stay by themselves. He stroked his beard...it was against the nature of some combatants to be aligned together. They simply preferred to work alone, for whatever reason. He shrugged. That would be all right--he would simply force them to be aligned. They would either work together, or be eliminated. They would observe their opponents in action, or
All of them came on board--some had to be ushered, though, and Morgant's answer to Cypherr was cut short by his motorcycle and both riders on it being magnetically yanked over to the ship. The coming, though, was short and sweet. Without much ado, as the combatants all mingled in one tight group (some, of course, looked far more uncomfortable being in the middle of a group than another--such as Shade, who seemed to prefer being at a distance, and Essex and Hal, who were both now cast adrift in a sea of [censored]), Church stood in front of them all. He crossed his burly arms, snorting as he looked over them all.
Wishes. Desire. So easily manipulatable. Everyone had a desire they wanted, and they were willing to entertain the masses simply to get a chance for these desires.
The ship slowly pulled away from the docks, and Church stood in front of all of the combatants. He said nothing, but simply hefted what appeared to be a large screen in front of everyone. It was covered by a thick black sheet, obviously to cover what was inside of it. With a no-nonsense yank, it was quickly pulled off, revealing a typical tournament-esque bracket ladder.
Everyone blinked at the middle.
A team of two AND another team of two versus two teams of two? A four-on-four? They signed up for a two-on-two tournament, not one with a four-on-four ending! Church, however, said nothing, simply waving his hand to dismiss all of the combatants, and taking the wheel of the ship once again, continuing to sail to Abbot State Penitentiary. The Carlucci family apparently had their reasoning. A reasoning that would be apparent and learned once they reached that stage of the contest--after all, they were simply combatants. They had to follow the rules of this game, in order to become eligible for their wish.
Underneath the billboard was numerous cards, each of which with their team name on it, and the competitors underneath. Not everyone had been social and had made a team, but those who did and those who didn't were now aware of who was on their side and who wasn't. Only one person was going to be there to watch their back--the rest would be more than willing to trample over them to ensure their own desire.
Team: Knight Lost and White Frost
Sir Morgant/Templar Morgant
Lady Permafrost/Baroness Frost
Team: Eternal Hope
Hallucinogen
Essex - Reploid S6
Team: Viper Corps
Agent Rulaag
Ozell One
Team: Burning Insanity
Burning Brawler
Schizophrenias
Team: Cutting Wit
Jason Collier
Cortianna
Team: Fire and Brimstone
Blazing Angel Akiko
Kairaishi
Team: Speed
Tam Khat
Dousojin
Team: Backstab
Ally Khat
Blightlord
Team: Ancient Darkness
GSR-Lyden
Moonscribe
Team: Might Makes Right
Dread Rosalind
Brutish Ghoul
Team: Cat and Mouse
Shade Panther
Cypherr
Team: Keep Yourself Alive
Scordatura
Tomanton
Team: Sleep Junk Down
Zealstorm
Droxiin/Droxide
Team: Metallurgy
Tragic Error
Solid Shot
Team: For Great Justice
Danica
Painpipe Weilder
Team: Team Tundra
Ramier Khastrovitch
MYSTERY CONTESTANT
Everyone looked at Ramier strangely.
((Okay, here's how the fights work. Each set of rounds will be held every single week, on Test--much like the practice CCC sessions, all together, so that everyone can watch. Practice for as much as you want, and then settle upon what will be the "real" match. Once it's over, either send the results to me (preferably by forum PM) or rematch IF THE MAJORITY OF FIGHTERS agree. Ten minute matches, small inspirations only, no temporary powers.
Have extra fights with people if you want, or unique types of fights afterwards--just remember, this is entirely RPvP, so feel free to banter before, after, or in between matches! Insult your opposition, give tips to the opponent you just creamed thoroughly, try to talk your opponent out of matching with you--anything and everything, RP is prevalent!
HOWEVER. The matches will be held on test, but I'm curious as to a good date which will be good for all of us to get together for exactly five weeks in a row. Times I think would be good are either anytime past 5 Friday EST, or anytime past Sunday 6 EST (despite that Fight Night starts at 8 EST). We can, however, change this event as per a weekly basis. What times are you all free, and what times would be good for you?
In any case, once you are on test, PLEASE enter the channel "Invasion of the Board". And please make sure it is enabled in your chat tabs, so that people know you're there! ))
The trip only lasted for a few hours--and upon docking on Carnate Island, Church was to the point. He ushered everyone out and through the front doors, onto the main floor. It was still a penitentiary, and still had the gloomy atmosphere of a prison, but everything was entirely renovated and cleaned up to resemble a motel of sorts. The main room had exactly 16 cells, with the bar doors sealed to turn into actual doors--each cell had been revamped to resemble a very, very miniature hotel room. Two beds, a single dresser, a miniature fridge, and two tables to put personal belongings on. It seemed none of the combatants had packed anything or brought anything with them, but it was the thought that counted.
"Each team will share a room." Church said. "If you must destroy the property inside, please feel free to, but we would appreciate it if they were left in one pile."
He then pointed to a table that was in the middle of the room, with a small piles of 16 pieces of paper on them. "Maps." Was the only word he said.
With only that, he quickly left.
Kairaishi looked at the room, then looked over at Akiko. It was fairly roomy for a cell, but he thought about his Kabuki--they were his personal bodyguards, and followed him everywhere. And they would take up a lot more room than he and Aki could probably handle. He smiled as he looked back over at Akiko. Hell, she was his teammate--she'd be watching his back, so he'd just dismiss the Kabuki when in the room. But right now, though, he would be relaxing just a bit.
He strolled over to her and gave her a few good pats on the shoulder, tilting his sakkat-covered head to look around the main floor. "Geeze...this place is pretty huge. It's a wonder what elbow grease and hard work will do, huh? Originated from a prison, and now it seems like it's almost a four-friggin'-star hotel. They're treating us like royalty, dammit--well, I know we kick [censored], and all, but still, it's not every day you just get shipped to a well-stocked place and told to go wild." He nodded, the brim of his sakkat bobbing in front of his eyes, quickly readjusted back into place with the thumb of his free hand. "Hey, I'm gonna go grab us something to eat--you in the mood for something hot and spicy? And what're you gonna do while I'm gone?"
Morgant had went straight to his room, silent and determined. He almost stormed there, in fact, carrying a backpack along with him that he had brought and marching into his room. He slung it down to the ground and promptly unzipped it, sifting through clothing, armor, and ammo for Vangelis to reach photographs. He had carried a miniature camera with him, and was snapping pictures of the combatants left and right.
He flung a whole pile of them on the table, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he sifted through them--he knew who he was going to fight now. Lyden and Moonscribe, who formed the team "Ancient Darkness".
He sifted through the photographs he had taken of them. Lyden was athletic in all of his movements, suggesting a hardened hand-to-hand fighter. He even had the muscle to show it, but it was specifically focused around his hands. A boxer, perhaps. He always seemed to be...gloomy, dark, and a little withdrawn. Because of this, he guessed that he would have darker powers--edgier people were often like that. He didn't know if Lyden classified as a Brute, though, or a Scrapper. Hmmm. It was a mystery needing solving, and fast, if he was going to plan how to deal with them.
Moonscribe, though, was an enigma. All of the photographs taken had shown him in positions as if...he knew exactly what he was doing. Every moment, he knew what was happening, when it was happening, how it was happening, and what WOULD happen. As if he controlled the outcome. The knowledgable types often put themselves back into the roles of buffing and supporting, so Morgant assumed that this strange man would be a Controller or a Defender. Or perhaps a Mastermind, with his minions hidden.
He shook his head, his long hair slapping across his face.
He was focused, dammit.
He was finally getting a chance to have his greatest wish realized--and though he didn't know Celia's wish as well, he knew that she would likely have one she desired throughout her entire life.
He was NOT going to lose.
Not on his life.
Scordatura looked around the entire prison, her eyebrow arched from behind her visor. "...A smeggin' prison. Wonnerful. Who cares if it's polished up an' cleaned up, it's still a prison. Wot are we, prisoners? Ye can polish up a lump o' feces an' plate it in gold, but inna end, it's still smeggin' feces." She shook her head--she shouldn't have been complaining, after all, it was a lot better than being left outside and not able to compete...but she was still more than disgusted by her holing up in a punishment area often reserved for the worst of the worst. She wanted nothing less than to be associated with them.
Tomanton's view of the place they would be staying was much more placid. Crime was a problem that was spiraling out of control- to abandon any such containment facility for any reason could not possibly have been on a whim. Perhaps it was because it was on such an inaccessible island- and he truly hoped that was the only reason. His own disgust at how crowded the facility would turn out to be stemmed from what he was simply used to as royalty- but that too was in the past, and it was something he would never bring up- not voluntarily, at least.
"...'Cat and Mouse', Rulaag. We'll be up against them first." Inside the Viper Corps room, Ozell gave a rather matter-of-fact tap with his finger on the self-made chart he had studiously hand-copied from the official one first shown on the ship. "The cat is Shade Panther, and the mouse, well, I guess that's Cypherr. I've worked with both of them before, on seperate occasions. They're both competent heroes."
Twirling a pen marked with the Equinox Labs logo between his fingers, he frowned a bit. "Cypherr likes to use big zaps--I mean, uh.. electric attacks, at a distance. That, and she's really slippery- she'll get evasive if she gets hurt, for sure. Shade Panther... has pretty much the same powers as me, though. And she seems to be really confident... Th-There's no telling what she might do. ...In addition, they're both very independent... if we happened to get one alone, I don't think their ability would be affected one bit." Ozell sat, flustered a moment, before he shook his head. No. There's no sense getting worked up. No being a burden to your teammate. "...Rulaag, any ideas on your end?"
-------------------------
Lyden remained in an at-ease position in the Ancient Darkness room, eyes staring straight ahead at the wall across from him, allowing Moonscribe to go about his business in relative privacy. Whenever Lyden kept up like this, he had found most of his clients would begin to accept him as a piece of furniture. His first matchup would be against Morgant and Lady Permafrost- two proactive heroes whom he had served once while they were undercover in the Isles. Not that that mattered now- the question raised was which set of techniques they were most likely to employ. Even without the assistance of the various bits and pieces of cybernetics implanted in his brain, Lyden could easily calculate the odds of either set of techniques being brought forth:
"Templar Morgant" probablity 92%. "Lady Permafrost" probability 100%.
It was the knockout blow. Moonscribe was comparatively fragile to Lyden- no way would they pass up the opportunity to take him out in one shot. That was Morgant. And why Lady Permafrost? Because from what he'd seen, she was still a bit clumsy wielding the Vangelis- she would do better in her own element as a complement to Morgant that could cure anything Moonscribe ailed him with.
That was the facts as he knew them- he supressed an urge to glance over to Moonscribe, to see how much thought he was giving to it. No doubt he had everything figured out.
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"Scordatura? I may be among them in the Isles, but I cannot say that I'm familiar with either of the villains we will face first. To my knowledge, however, a stalker-mastermind pairing would cause a potential rift in our ideal strategy." Tomanton closed his eyes in thought as he sat in a meditative position on his bed. "For now, all I can bring to your attention is the rather segregated bracket they've arrange this tournament in. We might do well to find an ally on the other side of the board- information is information, and sparring experience would be valuable. In most circumstances, we'll likely be able to find a team that closely matches our upcoming opponent."
After a long and laboured silence he exhaled through his nose, and leaned back onto the bed, head resting on the pillow. "...Something will have come to me in the morning. We will discuss it then."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you win because you're stuck continuing to trudge aimlessly along the long, winding path to oblivion we call life stepping on all the pieces of glass that litterbugs have left on the ground because there are no trash cans," Schizo said over his shoulder to Droxiin, and turned his head back to Burning. "Sure thing, loser. Just a moment."
Schizo spat on the ground with a flourish, and the air began to ripple and warp in the presence of his essence. Within a few seconds, a large television set had appeared on the spot.
"I'd like to introduce you to my friend Television," Schizo said, grinning. "We've been through a lot together. Commercials. . . anime. . . game shows. . . reality TV. . . ISN'T THAT WIGHT SNOOKUMS?" he added, patting the TV lovingly.
"Anyways," he muttered, fiddling with the dials. "Where was this again?"
It took him a while to find the channel he wanted, skipping through shows of the types he had mentioned and many more. He actually stopped to gleefully watch a soap opera for a short while, cackling "Excellent! They can NEVER be together due to forces beyond their control!"
Then finally the screen stopped, and showed a dark room, Bane Spiders standing all around, one of them watching the screen avidly.
"See, y'know what?" Schizo said, grinning. "Blightlord made a big splash in Grandville just recently. Just so happens that these idiots were talking about it while watching Television. And whenever anyone watches Television. . . Television watches them."
"You hear about that Blightlord guy?" one Spider said, shivering. "I heard he presented Lord Recluse his own head!"
"Nonsense," another said. "No one could beat Recluse. . ." His voice sank to a whisper. "And if they COULD, bad idea to talk about it, you know?"
"Uh, do you mean the guy gave him Recluse's head or, like, HIS head?" a third muttered.
"Quiet!" the one in front of the screen snapped. "We'll get in trouble if we don't follow that new mandatory TV break schedule! Besides, my show is on!"
The screen went dark. "Sounds like Blight is really doing well for himself," the madman continued, poking his finger at Blightlord himself, having done all this in full view of the mastermind. "But if that's not enough for you, I'd be happy to show ya something else. Just, y'know, can't give everything away before the deal is closed, now can I?"
He grinned horribly at Burning, the Television vanishing with a loud raspberry. "Honestly," Schizo sighed as the cackling fruit disappeared. "Where did he come from?"