(Open Season) Isla de la Muerte Inslito ((The big fight thread))

((Need a couple of posts to set up))

One day ago La Isla de la Muerte Insólito…

From Spetsnaz to Marine core to former security guard, from jumpy newbie to harden veteran, the men and women gathered here today knew how cheap life was, whatever loyalties they once had before, they belonged now to money.
Killers.
Dogs of war.
Mercanaries.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Tomorrow is likely to be very ******* bloody” a figure strode onto stage to address the thronging crowd.

It was clear that the figure was a little girl, despite her small frame being bulked up by the armoured leathers she was wearing, despite the long cowl she was wearing which flared behind her with every step and despite the Skull mask that hid her face

“The enemy will be coming for me, they will have dirty great boots, but hero and monster alike they are both guilty. They underestimate us, we normal human beings, but no more!” her voice was fierce and she clenched her fist at the end

“Tomorrow they will come, and they will die, they will find every footstep that they will take on this island, will cost them in blood.” Her voice was a declaration of war.

Some of the crowd clapped, others cheered, more stayed silent.

“I won’t lie to you, it will be difficult but you are the best money can buy, you’ve had time to learn the island, you’ve all experienced these kinds of fights, they will be expecting a little girl and her henchmen, they will not be expecting well oiled death aiming for their black hearts, now Ladies, Gentlemen, what say you shall we give them a war?” she asked striding back and forth as she delivered her speech.

This time the crowd were unanimous.

“WAR!”
“Buttered Toast.”

Midnight that night, high over Castle Bathory…

The jet plane flew, opening its Bombay doors to drop leaflets over the castle and the surrounding half mile.
The leaflets read as following.

Dear **** ess Lezzy mess Bat *****-y

You’ve been a naughty little tick haven’t you, I asked for money to spare your pathetic parasite species, you haven’t paid up. Therefore tomorrow I intend to release my virus and posion your food source.

But since I’m a sporting lass, I’ll give you one last chance to pay up, or of course try to stop me. My lab is located on a Isla de la Muerte Insólito.

PS

Bring your toys.

PPS

Except Jenga, I ******* hate Jenga.

Midnight High Over Moth Cathedral…

Another jet plane flew dropping leaflets, that read.

Dear Pious Hunter.

My name is Tomb, I probably deserve whatever is coming my way, I’ve killed many people, perhaps I should of chosen a better path, but ultimately my actions were for the greater good.

I’ve created a weapon that will have a massive impact on evil vampires, however they know about the weapon, know where I am. I’m not likely to live through tomorrow, but if you wish to bring me to justice, or prevent the destruction of my only gift to the world, then my lab can be found on La Isla de la Muerte Insólito.

Yours
Tomb

Ps.

I was disappointed to discover your name wasn’t actually Prius Hunter, my hopes of seeing a crime fighting Toyota have been dashed.

A general email sent to every notable super ground, villain group and even a few private individuals with a myspace or facebook account.

Dear Sir/Madam/Genderless being

My name is Tomb, I’m a very bad super villain, my base is located on La Isla de la Muerte Insólito. I am also the one who killed your <insert lost one here>

Alternatively, my lab of highly lootable custom weapons, expensive gear and super serums, is located on La Isla de la Muerte Insólito.

Tomb

Ps.

Would you like a bigger pen 15?

((thanks to pious for fixing the image size))

Just on the edge of square A6

The cargo ship achored itself in the waters. The crew of the ship hurried about on top, none of them wanted to go into the hold, knowing what was down there and fearing what might become of them if they did dare to venture into the darkness below their feet. No sound came from underneath, but two of their fellows had been curious and screams had been heard.

Behind the cargo ship, but in view of the island, a medium sized, motorised yatch. A fairly large boat, though nowhere near the size of the cargo ship.
In the main room in the yatch, Lucard Vas Normak was studying a map of the island, working out where Tomb might be, and how best to invade the island.

The captain of the cargo ship responds "This is the cargo vessel Merisin, we have been struck with engine trouble and our mechanic is attempting to fix the problem. Seems the tide has caused us to drift towards your island but we put down anchor and should not cause any trouble". The captain's voice is shaking as it come back over the comms. "we have an escort yatch containing a small group of gaurdsto aid in preventing pirates and raiders from stealing our cargo".

Immortal. Eternal. Undead. So many words, and yet not one of them meant what they desired. To the right means, the immortal were mortal. When it came time, the eternal were fleeting. Come by the prepared, and the undead were just dead.

Truth be told, he'd never really given any of that much thought. Not until now. Not until the ashes of a friend most dear ran through his fingers in the rain like so much rubbish at the bottom of a muddy river.

He couldn't physically feel them, of course. Oh sure, the alloys that composed his hands had been instilled with all sorts of trickery to convey the same sensation of pressure he'd once had, but that hadn't exactly been much. Not enough to really matter. Beyond the physical however, sensation abound. He felt all the pain, the suffering, the confusion that had been endured. Confusion, yes. That was the strongest. Why? That one word, that one thought had been there again and again, right until they had ceased completely. Why? Time after time. Why? Why? Why?

But there had been no answer.

Not until he'd come, that was.

A hunter he'd called himself. Frankly, he hadn't much cared. His body snapped as easily as always. Then, only then had he received his answers. Bounty. Money. Wealth. The thoughts disgusted him. The man's fate had been sealed even then. But he wasn't through just yet. A few more snaps brought him more answers. Boss. Child. Brat.

Tomb.

So Tomb she called herself. Fitting, considering that's what he'd make of her. Now, where was she? He didn't know. Poor fellow. One more snap, so he wouldn't suffer. He'd have deserved it, but there just wasn't any point. The ones he'd called friends were dead, and their killer's death was little more than means to an end. Of course, that end wouldn't be achieved with but his death. No. It required someone else's.

Tomb's.

But where was she? Logically, there weren't that many places someone like that could hide, especially when making deals like this. Too bad he wasn't a local. But that wasn't hard to overcome. He had help. 'The internet' was such a wonderful invention. Best of all, there was almost never one single spot that held the information one was looking for. In this case, that happened to be a satellite - or rather, the lack of one. A mandated clear zone over international waters. Yes, that wasn't at all suspicious. 'Psionic disruptors' too. Might as well have stuck a big, fat 'evil hideout' label on the place. Not that it was unique, of course. But the location fit more than the others.

La Isla de la Muerte Insólito. Fitting indeed. People here did tend to consider him fairly unusual.

He left the old, rainsoaked castle's ruins with a much greater calm than when he'd arrived. The locals looking on didn't much take note, though. To them, one titanic beastly outline of some unseen monster in the rain was just like any other - especially when its wings billowed trails of steam through the murky night. He knew his cloaks were fairly useless in this sort of weather, revealing his form to any onlookers below.

A layman would've called him a dragon. An expert would've termed him a nightmare. Stretching over twenty meters from the tip of his nostrilless nose to the end of his long, segmented tail, he was that indeed, and in many senses of the word. Narrow, gaunt, practically skeletal was he, as disproportionate in body as he was in mind. Arms, legs, that whip of a tail, even the extended neck that supported his crassly pointed skull seemed more than duly elongates against the tapered torso that gave them anchor, as well as ghastly slim and slender in and of themselves. The only thing that seemed broad enough in any sense were the wings that jutted almost directly from his shoulders, and even those were batlike and skeletal in nature, veiled in the dark and their nimbus of steam.

In truth however, it was all but an optical illusion. Each of the four long, clawed fingers that gave his hands their dexterity was thick as a man, and the palm they belonged to could easily hold more. His feet weren't quite so nimble, consisting of three lengthy toes in front, a fourth claw that formed the heel in the back. They all had a curve, designed for grasping like those of a bird, though whatever perch they fit certainly didn't hang between telephone poles. Verily, they likely could've snapped those in twain without much of a thought.

But it was his face that truly made the nightmare. Rigid, immobile, frozen as it was with but the exception of the jaw - and from that jutted long, narrow teeth, jagged like shards of sharpest glass. His only facial features came in the form of a select few ridges, contoured like solid bone, and a pair of large, lidless slits for eyes that never blinked, never closed, always staring out into the distance with a burning, penetrating fervor.

But right now he didn't much care who saw him and who didn't. Let the Transylvanians speculate. He had somewhere to be. He had someone to kill. The ashes ran from his palm, smooth and slick, washed clean by the rain. The frost took the rest, the tiny spurs of ice forming quickly as he ascended through the clouds, then above, high into the sky, and then beyond. Satellites ordinances could keep away. Him? Not so much. To him, La Isla de la Muerte Insólito was but a tiny speck far, far below. Just a target, painted so carefully against the globe that turned beneath.

A target now the intersection point of a collision course...

Within his throne room Erez'Zul continued to pace up and down, he had been asked a favor that would make many unhappy, but then....the benefits did outweigh any potential drawbacks.

A man in white clothes walked into the room, immediately drawing Erez'Zuls attention, except for his glowing blue eyes and white hair he looked relatively normal, seemingly human.
He walked up to Erez'Zul, a piece of paper in his hand, handing it over to him he stood silent. Erez'Zul read the message, one supposedly made by Tomb inviting everyone who has a grudge against her to her island, an act of suicide.

Erez'Zul looked at the piece of paper for a few minutes before looking at the blue eyed man again.
"I leave immediately, have Destroyer and Screecher meet me at this...island, as for yourself, gather them, once the enevitable battle is over we begin our plan, im done staying in the shadows."

Dropping the paper on the floor Erez'Zul made his way to the exit portal from his Dimension, his thoughts went back to why he was doing this, and what this could mean to his standing within the Court.

The missles impacted with the side of the cargoship. As the ship began to sink into the waves, screams could be heard over the comms. No orders or instructions, just panicked shouts and then a slight gurgling and a dread indusing howl.

Lucard looked around at the noise of the explosion, then smiled as he looked out the window to see the sinking ship. It had served it's purpose already and, alone in the cabin of the yatch, he decided it was time to begin moving. Quietly, calmly, he left via an underwater route, not needing to breathe becoming quiet the advantage as he flew towards the Island, keeping himself under the water.

To the South of square I7...

Ignorant of the ocean's best efforts to fling the speedboat wherever it pleased, Patsy looked toward the coast of the ghost isle ahead.

"You hear that?" Wilf asked from the comfort of the front passenger seat. Carly, the woman from the Rusty Rivet had taken the wheel, but at the moment had her eyes closed while she didn't need to move the boat. Whether she was asleep or merely deep in thought remained to be seen, at least from the immortal's point of view. Listening carefully, Patsy could just make out what sounded like some sort of commotion on the other side of the island, if only thanks to some kind of spell Wilf seemed to be working with a few simple hand signs, quite possibly amplifying what little noise made it to the other side of the island.

Patsy shrugged. She didn't know how Wilf's spells worked and had no intention of finding out. As long as they worked in her favour, it didn't matter.

"Some pillock's gone head-on for the port, by the sounds of it." she muttered.

"Hmm." Wilf responded. "Well, their loss, our gain. Hopefully, it should provide enough distraction to slip into the lagoon unnoticed"

"And if it doesn't?"

"Are you worried, Miss Crusher?" Carly piped up, opening her eyes to look back at Patsy. "Seems a little odd, seeing someone who could shrug off a few gunshots to the head worrying about a little resistance."

"Well, don't blame me if someone whips out an RPG and bombs this thing to Hell and back, alright?" Patsy suggested.

"We'll cope just fine, Miss Crusher." Carly reassured as she fired up the speedboat's engine and gripped the wheel. "Next stop, the lagoon!"

"And with any flamin' luck, some pointers to the twerp!"

A Few Klicks North-Northwest

She appeared as suddenly as the storm itself, a cascading scintillation of blackest darkness and coruscating violet. The shockwave blasted through the air in all directions, kicking up the spray like the detonation of a bomb. It lasted only moments though, the dull-gray plating of her bow slipping from the murk and down into the kicked-up waters. The rest of her followed on swift keel, and though she was technically a museum piece, her over 120 meters of aquatic armored armament weren't something at which to sneeze.



They weren't as sluggish as one might've expected either, the grumbling gurgle of heavy-duty compressors churning the waters behind her mere instants after the sphere of murk and mire that had brought her here had collapsed back into thin air. Her acceleration may have been wanting, but it was enough, and as such it wasn't long before the island had another ship approaching - and this one at a very direct nearly 90 meters per second...

Far far up in the Skies

It had been a long trip for the Priest and his team but now they were finally there. The Priest Corps soldiers went round the United States military aircraft-carrier rousing the Nighthunters awake in their seats. "Wake up Reverend" said the flag-wearing soldier Captain Harlem, one of twelve twin brothers to the Priest. "We've arrived at the given coordinates. Freeza says this is as close to Mount Inconvenient as he can get you. We're expecting sub zero, negative thirty on that mountain peak. Fog is pretty dense too... anything you can do about it? Angel of the Lord and all that?"

"Sorry to disappoint you Jo" said the Priest, rising from his seat and stepping up to the edge of the cargo drop. "But even I can't take on fog. You heard the man team, it's going to be ice cold at the drop point so stay close and keep warm. Gear up for the fall Altair, Mel and I will fly down and wait for you at the tip."

"Roger that Father" she replied. "Been living for this very moment so right now, I'm strapped and ready to free-fall baby!"

"Tyran this is Priest to South Jungle/Lagoon team" Pious began as the three of them leapt out from the aircraft. He thought clearly into the arcane amulet's spirit-linked thought network. "Miranda this is Priest to Harbour/Village team, Blade this is Priest to Town/City team, Damsel this is Priest to Mines/Plant team. North Jungle/Mount Inconvenient team is now above location and approaching the drop point. If you can read me, please be careful out there people. We already know this is most likely one very big trap so Priest Corps have agreed to remain stealthed and stationed up here and act as our eyes and ears. Besides that, we have no idea what's waiting for us on this Island. Remember your mission objectives, stay in formation and maintain communications. Do you copy?"

In the skies above the Island

Emerald flew high above the island, one hand clutching tightly at a small talisman hung on a golden chain around her neck. The charm had been a gift from her friend and employer Sylph and she'd been told it would shield her from sight and so far she'd not had any difficulties. She still had no idea what had drawn her to the island but she'd been on the edges of the 'Open Season' since the start, sharing information that came her way and her recent part in one of Tomb's bounties. Something in her wanted to see it's end for herself but she still felt reluctant to help either side. Istead she freewheeled above the island slowly growing more secure in her invisibility.

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Landborough Lesser (B8)

Kimiko sat on the shoulder of the largest of her boys, affectionately named 'Stompy'. She'd been present for Tomb's speech, clinging to the back of the group of mercenaries, yet still the young woman hadn't declared alleigance to any side in the conflict. She was present out of idle curiousity, and to shoot the hell out of anyone who dared face off against her, for fun mostly.

Stretching languidly her metallic cat ears gave a tiny twitch at the sounds on the wind. Large vehicles were mobilising, a great many people were preparing to fight, it was quite exciting in it's own way. Leaning back she idly draped herself over Stompy's shoulder plating, much like a lazy cat and just waiting to see what would happen.

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Hall of Fates, Corporation Base

Aquis worked with slightly sluggish movements, her eyes aglow but a tiredness to them, she still had plenty of power to her, yet still she had been stretched thin of late. Waving a hand in a loose circle she conjured a floating vertical surface. The surface rippled like water, catching the lights of the grand arcane hall for just a moment before something within it changed. A view of part of the Isla de la Muerte Insólito came into soft focus before sharpening into crisp detail. The chairman on The Corporation gave a satisfied nod before moving the magical screen upwards and starting to conjure a fresh one below it.

Soon the petite young woman was surrounded by an array of floating disks, each one showing the current events at a different point on the island. "We're on standby" Came a clear voice through her radio and she couln't help but smile. The Corporation had remained professional throughout the Open Season and had made some good money doing so and this was likely to be the end for all involved. Already she could see Tomb's messages had drawn some people to the island, they were either very brave or very foolish.

She kept her teams on standby, all in the safety of Corporation properties and awaiting her command. She'd already arranged the locations where her teams could be dropped off via a secure teleport should they be needed, spots throughout the Island chosen by her Operations Department to give tactical advantages, and also a few other spots that would be beneficial to her group. But it would be foolish to rush in straight away.

Instead she watched and waited, let the others involved lay into one another as she and her group assessed the worth of the situation. They'd only get involved if there was merit in it and would strike with deadly efficency. As ever, The Corporation meant business.

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Square A9

The surf rolled up against the port. The bodies of the crew of the recently sunk cargo ship appeared on the beach below. However the dead men were getting up, and walking towards the port with a ghoullish intent. To feast on anything they could find. 15 in all, but soon there would be more as they went about they're greusome task of turning Tomb's men, one by one, into ghouls like themselves.

Behind them, and moving far quicker, came creatures from a long forgotten time. These beasts had survived the sinking of the ship with ease, and swam quickly to the shore, hungry and eager. These feral, ancient vampires had only a limited intelligence, but they were keen hunters...and they had a target. Lucard had given them the scent of Tomb's breath. They would hunt her until one side was dead. Crawling along the ground on all fours for increased speed, this cave dwelling species were blind, but their pointy ears couldhear better, and their batlike nose could smell better, than any werewolf or vampire you care to mention. They could smell the people in the port, and they began to hunt, quickly and stealthily moving towards their new prey.

B5 The jungle

Lucard had easily avoided the mines, although they had moved slowly towards his metallic guns. He had been forced to simply come above the surface but was so close to the ground when he had to that it wouldnthave made any difference. Lucard hovered carefully, moving into the jungle.

He moved swiftly and quietly, hovering above the jungle floor to avoid the poisenous plants and any traps that Tomb might have placed there. He looked up at the mountain and smiled to himself, it would be the perfect place for Tomb to hide. Swiftly he began to head south, towards the old mine.

H3, on the border of the ghost town

Blade and his looked at the ghost town. They were stealthed for the moment, but as soon as they left the cloaking field, a device given to them by the late Rack Up, they would probably have to fight.

Over the Amulet communication, Blade sent a quick communication. "Pious, we read you, we are almost set to move on the ghost town, we are just seeing what we can see". As he said this, Blade looked out over the ghost town, trying hard to spot any movement. "will update when read".

A9

Detonation, after detonation rang out from the beach, throwing sand, shrapnel and , buried just below the sand were explosives, set so that anything walking near them would set them off, sending toxin coated bits of silver and lead shrapnel scattering on a wave of force and fire.

The beach is covered with barbed wire, large walls of it, each as tall as a man, gaps appeared here and there, but they were designed just to funnel attackers into kill spots, on the road above the beach, gun emplacements screamed with weapon fire as gattling and mini-guns ripped loose, sending bullets designed to shred armoured vehicles at anything that moved on the beach.

“We have contact, the war is underway over.” The merc captain in charge of the grid point radioed the rest of the islands defenders.



B5

Not all of the traps were designed for capturing ground based foes, between some of the trees vast webs had been spun, invisible in the darkness covered by the thick jungle canopy, they were made of a diamond hard material, that let what little light passed through the canopy, pass through the webs themselves.



B8

Landbourough lesser, had certainly seen better days, the ram shackle houses had barely stood the frequent tropical storms and rainy seasons, and now they’d been used by various merc companies, some of the houses had been demolished to provide material for re-enforcing other buildings pressed into use as barracks, and still others had been made unsafe and booby trapped.
For people with normal hearing it should be easy to hear the constant explosions and gun fire from the north.



H3

The ghost town, looked to be a picture perfect example of its classification, very few of the buildings had windows, and grass and jungle plants were beginning to grow through cracks in the pavements and roads, as the wilderness began to reclaim territory from human beings.

A slim figure stood on the roof of a ruined building, watching over the skyline of the Ghost City of Landborough. Brown cloak blew in the wind yet the hood kept her face hidden. Looking through the red-tinted goggles on her mask, the figure let out a childish giggle. She could sense the people arriving to the island, making their way to their posts and readying for the inevitable fight.

She idly strolled around the roof, waiting. Small rubble and stones that gathered around the roof over the many years came to life, floating in air and dancing for her amusement. It wouldn't be much longer before she'd move in for a better view of the battle, but for now, she held her spot.

Cap Au Diable, Rogue Isles, Castle Bathory

Elizabeth read the pamphlet again... her eyes blood-red of anger.


Dear **** ess Lezzy mess Bat *****-y

You’ve been a naughty little tick haven’t you, I asked for money to spare your pathetic parasite species, you haven’t paid up. Therefore tomorrow I intend to release my virus and posion your food source.

But since I’m a sporting lass, I’ll give you one last chance to pay up, or of course try to stop me. My lab is located on a Isla de la Muerte Insólito.

PS

Bring your toys.

...


She didn't even read further... but crushed the paper in her hand. Bring toys she said.. bring toys. Oh yes...

Two ghouls where carrying her black mirror... gently. They knew one mistake with it would cost them what life they had left. In the main hall they placed it against the wall. Elizabeth looked to the lounge and saw Shannon flying in... she had a full leather and wooden battle armour on. Jack Wulfe came in from the den under the castle. He was followed by three young werewolves. "The pack is ready countess!", he growled from his wolfthroat. Vladimir the Lich slowly walked to the countess too... his ageold voice uttered a short "Ready!"

Elizabeth nodded to the two men.. wondering if more would arrive. She missed Lilith and her demon templar. Fire and brimstone would be a good tool right now. Then she started to concentrate on the mirror.. and the location of the island. Formulating a strong spell to open a gateway. At points a small curse came from her lips as there was some resistance. But slowly the ebony surface gave way to show the coast of the island... not far from where Lucard was.

At the island a small patch of dark energies opened in midair. It grew larger a bit until it formed the same oval structure as the dark mirror. Rather eager Jack jumped out as first... He howled and looked around to scout. Hi sharp eyes looking for defenses.

Back at the castle Elizabeth instructed Vladimir and Shannon... "...and get me that virus. The process of creation. Then destroy everything that even looks like it could hold some. Burn the whole place to the ground."