"They don't sound like much of a challenge," Burning agreed. "But we need to be careful. Can't judge a book by it's... title."
--------------
Danica flopped down on the bed, rubbing her eyes. This was gonna be a loooooong week.
-------------
Blightlord grimaced at the pairing. A cat-woman? He shook his head. His expertise would more than make up for any lack of competence she may have.
The master of the undead examined the small room, and promptly drew a bottle. He poured the contents on a section of the wall. It flashed blue for a moment, then faded.
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
Aki pondered the question for a moment. "Yeah, sure. Sounds like a plan. Gimmie a shout if you find anything good in the kitchen. As for what I plan to do at the moment..."
She flopped backwards onto one of the beds and grinned at the ceiling. "I was planning on doing nothing, I think. It's not as easy as it looks."
(Five EST today on test, yes?)
"The gaping maw of your mind is filled with layered circles upon circles of bloody razors, I am finding."
- Twoflower
((Due to a lack of everyone showing up Friday, there'll be multiple days we do this--Wednesday at 6 EST, Friday at 6 EST, and Sunday at 5 EST. If there are any objections, PLEASE let me know))
Church took a look at the billboard that was displayed in the main floor. He tapped his chin in thought with a pencil, then crossed out Ancient Darkness' name, moving Knight Lost and White Frost ahead a step. He then inscribed Ancient Darkness' name in the very first Loser Bracket spot.
It was actually a tie, rather than a victory. The duo score was 3-0 VS 2-1, both adding up to three frags each. And yet, Moonscribe had insisted that the duo of Morgant and Celia be spurred ahead.
Church shrugged. Moonscribe had an aura of knowledge about him--he knew what he was doing. Maybe he was planning upon all of the easier opponents going into the Loser Bracket. Then again, how could he possibly know that? After all, he was just another metahuman. Like so many others in the city. Really, he was of no importance.
Church shrugged again.
Morgant pushed the pictures of Moonscribe and Lyden to the side, into the trash can. That was one group down. He sat on the bed and steepled his fingers in thought--there was no clue as to what the next group was. He would simply have to wait and see.
What if he had to face Cypherr, though? She was a friend to both him and Celia. Morgant frowned. He would have to wait and see what happened. But, in the end, his wish and her wish were important. He would never back down, even for a friend.
Kairaishi was in the kitchen, having been there for a while--his entire torso was buried in one of the fridges, digging his way through left and right. The Kabuki were studiously standing behind him, keeping watch over their creator as he dug his way gluttonously over the food.
"Mmph...chinese...General Tso's Chicken...Sa Cha Shrimp...Garlic Sauce with Lo Mein...oh, hey, look, pizza!"
He quickly withdrew his body, mouth stuffed with sausage logs, noodles of lo mein, some shreds of chicken, and beef strips, and two large boxes of pizza.
"Mmphhh--pizza, th' 'ood o' chammons!" He muttered as he struggled to chew and swallow all that was in his mouth. He flipped open the boxes to take a look at what was inside--the first box contained chicken, mushroom, and sausage topping, while the second box contained garlic, liver, spinach, and tomato.
Kairaishi blanched as he swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth, closing the second box. "Who the hell puts tomato, liver, and garlic on pizza? Oh well..." Grabbing a bottle of crushed red peppers, he proceeded to sprinkle a drizzle across the top.
A few seconds later, he was back in their room.
"Knock knock. Pizza delivery."
He laid the fresh-heated pizza down on the table, opening up the box and reclining on his bed, the Kabuki waiting outside with their eyes as alert as ever.
"So...our first opposition is Burning Insanity, a Dominator-class and Blaster-class." He lifted his arms up in a shrug, grinning behind his mask. "I hacked a few databases for information on them--apparently Schizo can control the mind as well as various spiky thorns, while Burning Brawler has lots of fire blasting goodness with some ice manipulation to back it up. Now...if that one lady Perma taught me anything, it's that ice is pathetically weak offensively, so I doubt the Brawler has any good, close-range attacks. I can web him, glue him, and he'll be aaaall yours, while I deal with the schizophrenic. Sound like a plan?"
((Scor posting later, worktime now))
((I can't do Wednsdays, ever, and I can only sometimes do Sundays >_<
)
((What's going on here, Ramier has nothing to say? 
And yeah, the university screwed up my schedule, I'm usually not back ome until later in the evenings. Sundays are a big maybe too, depending on what's going on at the time.))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
As Church crossed out the team name, the sneaky form of Cypherr crawled its way along the floor on all fours, settling down with a 'plop!' in front of the bracket board. Her legs outstretched and tail swaying slowly behind her, she peered up at it, her eyes squinted in a seemingly thoughtful fashion. Her head tilted as she scanned across the shapes of letters, the words of names... and within a few minutes her form looked strained, her tail twitching about as if agitated. She probably looked quite odd to passerbys, leaning up towards the board and trying valiantly to understand at all what it meant. But her mind was hazy. She heard something about a partner before, but still didn't quite comprehend the basic structure of this tournament. After a few more minutes her tail sunk down, her ears drooping in a saddened fashion as she let out a frustrated whine.
She couldn't read the board.
Droxiin and her unruly companions had made their way, hastily, past everyone and into their room, paying no attention whatsoever to the tournament schedule or who her teammate was. The door was left wide open, carrying the rowdy noise and excitement throughout half the penitentiary, as though beckoning those with curiousity or a daring will to join in on the fun.
Droxiin had carried their card game from the boat into the building, all sitting on the floor and laughing as the game seemingly got more intense, the bets between them becoming increasingly more ridiculous. Though originally accompanied by two men, somehow, four others had appeared at her side, all bearing the same rugged, ripped, dangerous look. And one, apparently, had snuck a case of alcohol past the contest's higherups, only furthering the uproar of their game.
Tragic Error had risen from where she was hidden, her eyes darting across the names of the combatants and their pairings, seeming to register them in less than a second. Once she laid eyes on her own pairing however, she seemed to stay there for a moment, motionless, as though it was either of great fascination or great irritation to her. Her face was blank, however, as it often was, and she calmly strode her way through and past the wave of competitors, her path diligently beelining for where she had been assigned to stay.
Once she had the door safely shut behind her, she began searching every single corner of the room, down to every last object and carpet fiber, like some sort of paranoid health inspector. Every once in a while her eyes would land on the second bed in the room, flickering with a subtle hint of distaste.
((Also, yeah, Wednesdays are a no-go for me either. Sundays are kind of eh as well. I'm not too fond of it, but I'd be there if people really wanted that date. Friday works best for me.))
((Gah, what am I supposed to say?))
((Something along the lines of 'Show yourself you damn mystery teammate'? 
))
((Yeah, kinda...and what Ramier does going to his room may be a good idea too. 
))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
((Remember all, 5 Eastern today!))
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
(( Here is an updated bracket for anyone lost as to where people are now. ))
Burning put his head in his hands as he sat on the bed. How could he lose! That match should have been too easy!
"At least there's still the loser's bracket..."
---------------------
Danica paced back and forth in her room. She had talked to Essex and the android had said she would talk to Hal about forfeiting or throwing the match but the martial artist was still nervous. Wishes were powerful incentives for someone to let their own personal desires take over.
Danica was sure if she had to that she could win. She had no idea what this 'Painpipe' guy was capable of, but she was sure that he could keep Hal busy.
And Burning had lost to! What if they both failed? Void would still be out of reach, and maybe another year would go by with their son in the Rogue Isles. Danica felt her emotions starting to get the better of her, and promptly sat down on the floor to meditate.
----------------------
Blightlord walked back into his room. The feline had not shown up. Probably was taking a very long nap, as her kind is known to do. Either way, he did have the chance to battle one of the contestants who had defeated Brawler.
Confident from his victory, the master of the undead stepped into his mirror to think on the outcomes of the day.
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
((Nitpick: Soviet and my team name is just Tundra. No 'Team' in the title. ))
The mysterious cloaked figure haunted the halls of the prison. It had not yet visited the team domicile and seemed uninterested in talking to anyone unless spoken to first. Waiting and watching was all it seemed to do.
At least until it came tdo a locked door that nobody seemed to have entered yet - at least, none of the contestants.
The figure simply stood in front of that door for a while.
Was this what it sought?
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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"Luck alone did not doom that fight. Technique aside, severe misconceptions of approach and expecation more than likely ended our bout for us before it began...I cannot repeat the same mistakes if I want to salvage this chance.
...
Team Burning Insanity will be a more difficult fight than the last- their very nature tilts the odds against us. If they know it now or not I am unsure, but no doubt they will find out. What approach could shall we take...?"
Tomanton's thoughts were in turmoil, as he sat in a meditiative position... outside the Keep Yourself Alive room, blocking the front door. He knew so much about Scordatura so as to understand her need to keep seperate identities, and thus he would afford her her privacy if she needed to rid herself of the armor for awhile. Any comfort that could be made, he would make- he wanted his teammate to be rested for the match to come.
-----------------------
Lyden was taking up just a corner of the Ancient Darkness room, as he had before. Moonscribe had turned down the offer of a rematch, conceding their fight. Was this part of his plan? With no opponent picked yet, there were too many outcomes to calculate, so... Lyden simply lowered his eyes. Even supersoldiers needed some rest sometimes.
----------------------
Burning Brawler and Schizophrenias would here a knocking at their door- or more accurately, a light thudding- as if someone was bumping at it with their heads.
Church crossed two more names off on the board. He hesitated, though, as he looked at the loser bracket, pen in hand. He twirled it in his fingers as he thought. There were twelve loser spaces available. And only three losers actually there. It would be hard to create a good match with just a pool of three teams to choose from. He frowned--a mis-matched matchup would mean poor morale for the fighters, and thus they wouldn't fight well, and thus viewers wouldn't be interested in the fights. Poor ratings meant poor money, and right now, money was everything.
Church pocketed his pencil, leaving just one name in the loser's bracket. He would wait and see how the other matches went before matching up others.
Scordatura lay in her room--she had appreciated Tom's offer of privacy, and took it quickly. The room was pitch-dark--she had turned out the lights, erected mental barriers inside, as well as interdimensional barriers. She ate in silence in the darkness, wishing she was able to ingest a meal THROUGH her armor, instead of having to remain private every now and then.
Specifically, she was eating a cheeseburger--the grease and fat would be burned into adrenaline and energy, which would definitely fuel her later endeavors.
She had known exactly what was going to go on in the match--or, at least, she thought. She would be able to pick up Zealstorm's hiding with her suit's visor, but she had underestimated Droxiin's "boys" and her abilities. That had singlehandedly caused her mess-up--with darkness clouding her visor, she wasn't able to aim straight.
It was kinda hard to give any semblance of damage if you couldn't even hit somebody. She was powerful, but her Awesomejutsu style, while flashy, was very wild--her flailing hindered her accuracy, and extra help to down that...really hurt.
She just hoped the next crew she faced would let her hit something.
"CHAAAAANGE, COMMANDO!"
The door to the Keep Yourself Alive room opened up, and Scordatura in full armor strolled out casually.
"There ye go, lad. Thank ye fer lettin' me eat in peace, I really 'precciate it...I'm gonna go outside an' kick summa those bags."
Kairaishi had set up a miniature, portable TV in the room. It wasn't fancy, but it was enough to get the job done. He had specifically recorded his and Aki's match against Burning Insanity. He was arrogant, callous, and prided himself in his victory--or, at least, he gave the facade of it. Those who knew him, though, could understand just how ruthless and thorough a strategist he could be, and what better portrayal than of a lecherous and aloof idiot to throw people off-guard? He was looking over his previous work now--he had made mistakes in his strategy, as all people do. Problems had risen on the fly, and he had made wrong split-second decisions. Some decisions cost him his life.
He frowned as he looked over the moment of Schizo hurtling him into the air effortlessly and back down to the ground with a WHUD, while the archmage blazed into him. With his neuroarmor, he was more acrobatic than that--he just hadn't reacted fast enough against the throwing, and that had cost him.
He tilted his head to the side as he watched Schizo scrambling his neuroarmor commands, sending his puppets into a confused frenzy. He had a Break Free override command then, why didn't he use it? That was another mistake that cost him.
He steepled his fingers as his eyes narrowed, watching over the rest of the match. There were also plenty of times in which he was able to do things, but was busy reeling defensively from the onslaught. He was a strategist, dammit, he should've been able to counter such an onslaught.
With just a blink, he pushed the thought out of his mind. Self-disgust would get him nowhere. Cold, hard, analysis was needed.
As Church pocketed his pencil, he heard a voice behind him. It was deep, yet gentle, and although it carried a dark undertone, wasn't unpleasant to listen to.
"Mister Church, was it?" the hooded figure that had appeared on the ship asked. Apparently, it had gotten tired of standing in front of a locked door, "I hear the Carlucci family have in your emply a Mu mystic. I should like to speak with him. Is this permissible...?"
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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Moonscribe sat calmly, looking around the room, eyes obscured as always by the moonlight that reflected off his glasses. Though the source was in question.
Djehuty? Are you really sure about this?
Of course I am not. Were I sure, I should be a fool. We cannot determine every outcome to every possible situation. It is well, though, if it appears that we can.
We perhaps could have won a second bout. Why did we not attempt it again? Are you sure the loser's bracket will give us a better chance? What if Morgant wins? We can surely not allow him his wish.
Percy, it may never be granted. We have been clear that this was a gamble from the start. And an excellent way to lower the odds of someone who would squander their wish receiving it.
. . .I am unsure of this.
Excellent. You should not be. To accept that you do not know everything, though you spend millenia learning, is the greatest wisdom you shall learn.
And Moonscribe sat calmly, saying nothing of this, Percy and Djehuty both awaiting what the future held in store.
* * * * * *
"BAHAHAHAHAHA!" Schizo declared, ignoring Burning's laments about the match loss. He was losing! He was proving that he was completely useless! As well as evil and depraved! Ah, no one would EVER miss him when he was gone. It was such a comfortable feeling. And besides, he hated everyone, right? He was going to take the world with him when he left?
"Yep, that's right!" Schizo cackled, grinning, not showing the tiniest hint of the internal struggle he was feeling. It was Hallucinogen who showed that. . . the two of them were the struggle personified, after all.
"And cool!" he yelled as a pounding came at the door. "The termites here must be AWESOME!"
The thumping on the door took an annoyed pause. Ozell's mid-pitched and slightly agitated voice sounded on the other side.
"Schizophrenias, I can hear you in there! Let me in!"
Tam tapped her toes on the floor idily while she looked at the board. She and Dousojin had missed the opening rounds while chatting about their girlfirends over a very large (well, her's was) lunch. She was embarassed that she made their opponets wait, but no sense crying over spiled milk and all that.
In the yard, Cortianna smiled faintly as she heard the martial artists words. While Jason had forgotten about the round, she had decided their tactical meeting would be more benifical then charging into a fight without a plan.
Ally looked up as Blightlord entered the room that had been assigend to them, offering nether explination nor appology for her absence. She, frankly, didn't feel like telling him her business.
((Ok, if you really want a 6EST time, then the weekdays are totally shot for me. At 6 Eastern it's only 1 for me and I'm still at work. 
Weekends are about the only time unless you want to move it to around 9 or 10 EST. Give me some advanced warning and I can remind Mike about it as well.))
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
OOC: Almost forgot to mention: For the foreseeable future, which could be anywhere from a day or two to until I get home, I will be unable to access CoX. This is due to new security restrictions at my school. I have talked with an IT friend of mine and he is willing to ask his boss to open up several ports which should let CoV run, but it may not happen. I'll make mention of it again if things start working.
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.
((Indeed. Weekends pretty much for me as well. ))
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
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((So I'm assuming Sunday would be good for you, Ara?))
Church simply turned to face the hooded figure. "Follow." Was the only word he said. Turning to face the billboard again, he leaned down low and quickly unlatched two nails at the bottom of the board. He lifted it up, and it quickly became apparent that the billboard was actually two halves of slab held together, with...a portal in between them. Church gently pushed the figure in and then followed, closing the slabs behind them.
The inside was...a simple room. A large square room, made entirely out of stone. Candles and runes were enscribed upon the wall, as well as diagrams of ancient symbols of power, dissecting all of their parts and trying to find out WHAT made them so powerful. Sparky was in the middle of poring over a satanic pentagram when Church and the hooded figure appeared in the room with nothing more than a poof of smoke to announce their arrival.
Sparky didn't even turn from the pentagram, continuing to hover as lightning flickered about his eyes, the blond hair normally neatly swept back now spiked straight up--likely by the electricity, apparently he had been studying for a few days.
"I was not aware that the CCC had finished already, Church. Unless my second, third, and fourth sight fails me, it is barely begun. Why am I being requested already?" The voice was quiet, but it echoed around the room.
Church spoke calmly to match the quiet, though his voice didn't echo. "This figure has requested your presence."
Sparky smiled. "Mmm, yes. He apparently took an interest in the door, though it is a shame he did not remove the chains to see what was beyond it. There would be so many potential scenarios if the chains were removed. But perhaps he can sense beyond it, and knows of the dangers and the benefits that lie past it. But, I apologize, I ramble." He slowly turned away from the pentagram and turned to face the hooded figure. "If you requested to see me, you likely have a reason for it. Enlighten me with your intentions."
((Scor post after work. Dammit, I wish I could post more. <_< ))
((Shouldn't be a problem. Barring any AV level ambushes from work/home/other. Though this weekend might be bad. Double XP weekend and all. ))
Pinnacle
Heroes
When in danger, or in doubt; Run in circles, scream and shout.
Ramier entered the team Tundra room without having said a word. A small droid jumped from his belt and hovered around the room, checking for any traps. Satisfied with this, Ramier sat idly in his chair and tinkered with a large bomb.
He didn't really care who he worked with....as long as they didn't make him lose.
---
"A melee-centric fighter and a ranged attacker. Hnh." Rulaag grunted, stroking his chin. "Leave the melee one to me. I have many ways to take care of them. As far as the ranged one goes, keep her off of me, and we will surely be able to defeat them both."
((Oh dear. XD;; I've forgotten about this with the battles being suspended, I guess. I hope it's alright for me to post in such a case. <_<)
"Fine, fine, whatever," Schizo sighed, and spat on the floor.
The ground under his feet bubbled and warped at the touch of pure chaos. Ripples shot through it in the direction of the door and swam up the sides, and finally the doorway itself shrunk in all directions away from the door with a great heave, and the door disconnected, bending slightly, and dropped to the ground with a clatter.
"I suppose I could've just opened it," Schizo cackled, floating up to the doorway as it snapped back into its normal state, so that the door was now lying on the ground without a visible cause for its removal. "But that wouldn't have been NEARLY as fun."
". . . Ozell!" he exclaimed, tone abruptly changing to one of barely suppressed fury and hatred. "What the heck are YOU doing here?"
"Well. . . I guess we're just waiting for the first round," Hal said, seating himself on his bed in the Eternal Hope room, his green smoke gone to reveal an ordinary boy with wild dark brown hair and a simple green T-shirt and dark purple pants. He looked tentatively over at Essex. She seemed quiet. . . she was probably nervous and needed to be left alone at the moment.
)
"Great. A martial artist lady and a guy with a big honking painpipe," the hero sighed, lying back on the bed and supporting his head with his hands. "We're going out of this thing SO fast."
* * * * * *
Moonscribe had somehow managed to bring a piano into the Ancient Darkness room, though no one ever saw it enter. He sat at the keyboard, playing a soft, peaceful nocturne, smiling calmly.
"Yes, you may be right, Lyden," he said out of the blue, continuing to play, never faltering or hitting a single wrong note. "In that case it is likely best for you to engage Morgant so that he is unable to reach me, while I have a discussion with Celia about which of us is permitted to continue fighting."
* * * * * *
((Disclaimer: I do not share or condone Schizo's opinions. He says this about everyone. XD;
Schizophrenias floated over his own bed, hurling thorns into it and cackling as each stuck in place.
"So, Burning honey," he sneered across the room at his teammate. "It looks like we're fighting some "Kairaishi" loser and some idiot called "Akiko Blazing Angel". Meh. Since when was this that stupid World Tournament from Dragon Ball Z? I bet they're both level 1."