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First Annual BLN Olympics Tournament Bruce Wayne!pinkie78Os 835043[Last 50 Posts]

#Better Layton Never #Side-Thread #Tournament #Closed #For Glory!


>on the continent of Belle'Ayn, in the country of Victin, in its shining jewel known as Silver City

>right outside of the utopian city's foremost sports arena, Comet Stadium, news reporters gathered around one man, eagerly thrusting microphones in his direction and excitedly jabbering all at once

Ladies! Gentlemen! Please, one at a time!

>Mr. Wayne would hold his hands up to try and calm the growing crowd, but it wouldn't last for long, as they continued to shout questions at him

Mr. Wayne! Can you please run through what exactly this event will be once more, just to get everyone at home up to speed?

>the billionaire playboy would give a gentle chuckle at the question, lowering his hands

Of course, of course. I imagine we have many curious and excited viewers today who aren't sure what they're in for.

>he'd readjust his suit jacket briefly, then begin speaking in a calm, descriptive voice

At the last World Government Council meeting, we made a proposal to help ease growing tensions between various countries, as well as to hopefully create some form of unity between us all.

As you are all aware, many of us are aliens to this world. We fell through the multitude of rifts that, to this day, still populate this entire planet, and possibly this entire universe. But even though many of us have been here for years, we've yet to truly open communication with one another, content to just stay within our borders and deal with our own problems.

A great man once said: "A house divided against itself cannot stand". I believe that still rings true, and that is why we have organized this special event.

>he lifted his hand at this point and gestured to the building behind him

Right here, in our very own Comet Stadium, we will host what will hopefully be the first of many Rigel Prima Olympics Tournaments.

Though we have taken the name from the planet-wide sporting event from Earth, it is very much a traditional tournament. It operates in the same way as previous, smaller tournaments have operated in other countries of this world.

>one of the reporters would then raise their hand, waving to get Mr. Wayne's attention

So it will operate exactly the same as the tournament last year in Guilt Edge?

>the crowd went into a collective, uncomfortable silence at this point, some of them looking incredulously at the one who asked the question

>Mr. Wayne, in turn, cleared his throat and spoke again in a soft tone of voice

I can assure you that it won't be exactly the same as that event.

For one thing, we will be using a unique team-related mechanic for this tournament. We have sixteen teams of four representatives each from various countries around the world. Each bout will be the standard one-on-one battle that we are accustomed to, and each team will choose their combatant to participate.

Once the battle is concluded, the winning team will continue in the tournament unchanged. The losing team, however, will have to go on with their teammate eliminated from the event. This will add a new level of strategy to these fights, especially when the teams begin to shrink in size towards the end. The last team standing will be declared the winner of the tournament.

But what about the level of violence typically shown at this events?

>again, the crowd falls into an uneasy silence, the same reporter having hit the troubling issue right on the head

>Mr. Wayne would give a weary sigh, and would soon speak in a more even tone

Listen...I understand that many of you are concerned about this. The Guilt Edge tournament last year had long-reaching effects for us all. Guilt Edge itself is still recovering from the invasion, as are other areas on this continent.

So I do understand the issue with possible drudging up old wounds and bad memories. However, I can assure you that such a thing will not happen here.

>the entrepreneur took on a much more serious tone, adjusting his tie for a second before speaking further

This is not some glorified street fight for money or for the sake of shedding blood. This is a legitimate sporting event.

Therefore, we will be watching the battles very intently all throughout the tournament. If excessive force is used, by anyone - force that could severely injure or possibly even kill their opponent - then we will step in.

The participant in question will be eliminated on the spot under the right circumstances. Not only that, but the rest of their team will be called into question, and - if deemed necessary - will be eliminated as well.

We do not intend to let this turn into a debacle, or let old grudges turn this event ugly. This is meant to promote peace and unity, and it will do just that, no matter what anyone else attempts to do.

>the crowd had fallen silent again, though this was more out of nervousness than uneasiness

>for the time that Mr. Wayne spoke, his voice had grown unusually cold, taking on a voice that many didn't associate with the man
>in fact, it sounded awfully familiar to a much more menacing figure that prowled the streets of Silver City...
>Wayne, unabated, cleared his throat and took on a more sunny disposition

Now, any more questions?


>tournament rules are as follows:

>use d1000 dice only
>a crit hit means that the receiver is stunned temporarily and is thrown to the edge of the ring
>if one is sent to the edge, the attacker must roll both to hit them and to knock them out of the ring
>if both rolls work in the above situation, the defender is sent out and loses the fight
>if the attack roll hits but the ring-out roll fails, the defender must roll to get away from the edge of the ring
>if the first attack roll fails, then the defender may move away without a roll
>if a roll is a crit fail, the defender may land a free hit and roll for maximum or minimum damage
>a trip crit is an instant KO; a trip fail means the defender gets a free critical hit
>don't be unreasonable with fights; if your character is in a position where they will lose a fight, let it happen - don't drag it out and make other players unhappy, this is just meant for fun
>above all, have fun!
This post was edited by its author on .

Concerned reporter 835048

>from the crowd of reporters, an African gentleman would raise his hand. Not even waiting to be called he lifts up his microphone.

Oh my god, you Batman!?

Memorial of War !MrCarnage2 835084

File: 1412033878381.png (525 KB, 440x880, Tomb_of_War_by_Aikurisu.png)

>As the interview with Bruce Wayne for the opening ceremony came to an end, another began as two large Maresian cargo helicopters flew into view with a huge monolithic chuck of black and red metal twisted beyond recognition.

>Slowing to a stop, both helicopters gently lowered the metal into place, digging its tip firmly into the ground whilst an amalgam of ground personnel busied themselves by tethering the thing in place with thick coils of steel rope.

>Once that was accomplished, the helicopters flawlessly unlatched their hooks from the metal's surface and flew away out of sight again as a separate group of workers set up a finely crafted altar of white marble upon which words of bold black script were inscribed: "Let this shard of Aelazandre, ever remind us of how brightly humanity can shine... and how heavy the toll for complacency can be."

King William Rebaine IV !MrCarnage2 835096

File: 1412035042543.png (1.35 MB, 1892x1064, vlc 2013-09-09 00-08-46-49.png)

>As the crew of manual workers cleared the ground, a crowd of lavishly well dressed folk took to the front of the memorial, one young man in particular, whose crown of gold shone brightly in the midday sun, took to the front of the stage; his ice cold blue eyes scanning the crowd assembled before, taking note of who was present and who was absent from the event. Then a microphone was handed to him and the Maresian King's speech began.

Ladies and Gentlemen... even as we assemble on this day to celebrate peace and prosperity among and between the many nations of this world, let us stop to remember the tragedy that befell Rigel Prima when, one year ago, the brightest, most advanced and productive of its cities disappeared in the wake of a cataclysm from which it may never recover.

>Pausing then, the young king's grave blue eyes scanned the crowd again for a time before turning onto the monolithic slab of metal that had been planted into the ground.

Many of you here have visited the town itself and know it to have been a true gem of technological progress and prosperity. With its winding towers stretching high to the heavens, illuminating the stars both day and night with marvels beyond compare and its people living serene, easy lives within their confines.

But now the noises have fallen silent, and our skies are darker than they have been in decades.

. . .

This shard was taken from the ruins of the city from what he can only assume was one of the city's great habitation blocks.

Let its twisted surface remind us of the heavy price we all paid that day and how fragile our existence upon this world can be.

May their spirits ever be remembered in history, and their tragedy never repeated.

>Falling silent then, the king walked off to the side, handing over the microphone to a young man in attendance whilst Mares' champions stepped forth to show their respects to the proceedings.

Captain Tristan Reed!Ren/VL7f/Q 835100

File: 1412035731280.png (919.06 KB, 844x641, Dramatic.png)

>First up to pay his respects was a tall man wearing a long coat and a suit underneath it. He looks down impassively at the memorial, a bouquet of flowers clutched in his hands. Despite the touching nature of the scenery, his eyes betrayed no feelings on the matter.

>He carefully laid the flowers down upon the marble slab and turned away, setting on his walk back to the Maresian allocated sector.

>This was Captain Tristan Reed of the Fifth Regiment, special operations expert. He had been asked to represent his country, and represent his country he would.

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 835103

File: 1412036346476.png (705.16 KB, 826x1920, tumblr_n6x19gjBTV1trouxto7_128…)

>The second to stand appeared somewhat nonchalant in his posture, dressed more casually than his initial colleague. His expression was a confusing one - it was hard to tell whether he was truly respecting the memorial with a dour frown or merely somewhat bored of the proceedings.

>With no flowers to give, he simply stood for a moment at the memorial before placing a hand against his heart and taking a low bow. If nothing else, this sign of respect was genuine, even though it only lasted a moment or two before he stepped back, turned away and headed back exactly as the Captain had.

>Doctor James Zanarkand was not usually one for formalities, but this was an event of such a degree where even he would show his respect.
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Sergeant Blithe Feroux!uvadBiRdiE 835134

File: 1412038621344.jpg (105.29 KB, 1000x1000, butt.jpg)

>The third champion steps forward perfectly in time. The only female, and the only one so far displaying arms, doesn't look out at the audience; she was never good with crowds. Instead, she fixes her ghastly blue gaze on the memorial in front of them. Her grip nigh-imperceptibly tightens on the white rose.

>She was much, much more comfortable when she couldn't be seen by this many people... but, she had to get over that bit of stage fright before the competition began. For Mares.

>With a nod to respect the lives lost, Sergeant Blithe Feroux places the rose on the memorial, and returns to her place in line.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 835146

File: 1412039236580.jpg (204.82 KB, 753x1062, ghost_recon_future_soldier_off…)

>After all three figures had had a turn to approach the monument and pay their respects, the final man to march up to the memorial wore a large rifle strapped across his back from which pale blue light shone incessantly and was covered entirely in modern military gear, his face obscured with a bandana of sorts and his right eye covered with a glowing blue eye-piece.

>Though the man was silent, his composure spoke volumes as to what kind of character this stranger might be. For all the crowds assembled before the monument, he seemed to think he were entirely alone at had eyes only for the large chunk of twisted metal resting before him.

. . .

>For quite a long time, he said nothing until finally he opened a pouch on the front of his vest and withdrew a red rose from his pouch and placed there at the foot of the memorial along with the rest of the offerings made before turning his back to it and walking back into line with his fellow representatives of the country.

>That being done, the King rose and left the proceedings with a final bow, thus signaling the end to the proceedings and bringing the ceremony to a close.

Dancie Perl!7iNNPsLMuM 835191

>it was almost unbearably cold for her, and yet that was the last thing on her mind
>ever since she stepped foot onto the boat that carried her and her team off of their homeland, Valorcall, everything had been a brand new experience from her
>she had never once left the sands of the Elven lands, not even stepping foot in the plains and snows of the other territories
>from the salty water washing their boat, to the arrival to the shores of Belle'Ayn, and the concrete that paved the roads that their bus rode upon, everything had been a brand new experience for her
>and the arrival to Silver City was no less remarkable, the sprawling metropolis easily rivaling even the greatest of Elven cities, its buildings almost glittering under the setting Sun as they seemed to touch the sky itself
>this was a new land, a continent still minuscule in its history compared to her ancestral home...

Did you see that monument they placed outside?

>the Elf's eyes would close shut with a hoarse sigh, knowing full well where this conversation was heading from such a simple question

>the taller woman standing besides her was her trainer, a brown skinned Elf, her dark hair always finely brushed over her robes

Some city gets blown up, and they receive this big ceremony during a big event... Don't these people know how many Elves were massacred in the siege of Whitewolf?

>running a hand over her scarlet face, the other Elf would stand up from her seat, green pupils among a pitch black eye staring at her trainer

Can you please not do that?

Do what? All I'm saying is that our "fair and just" King has done nothing to appease the two decades of bloodshed that his kind inflicted on our people-

We started that war, Galat.
>flipping her braided striped orange hair over shoulder, she would cross her arms in front of her chest
>clad in a very lightweight leather armor, the spear-adept Elf would give a small glare towards her trusted, yet endlessly frustrating, trainer
Couldn't you just show a little respect, and stop blaming everything on the Nords for once?
>with an annoyed growl, the woman would turn on her barefooted heels, simply walking away from her trainer
>not that she had a lot of places to go, each team being assigned their own locker rooms, leaving her with the only choice to walk up to a sink and splash water over her face
>she always got nervous in competitions, even if she always came out the winner in the end
>but this was different, not some simple spearing contest back home, this was a tournament
>a tournament that involved people with abilities she possibly could never dream of, from all corners of the globe
>she had very good reasons to be nervous, at least this once

Lumina!MEOWKdWFcQ 835201

>meanwhile, outside of Silver City, was an enormous APC, big enough that it would function as a house. The behemoth vehicle, with installed bedrooms, a kitchen, dining hall, meeting room, and foyer, over looked the city. On the side of it was the Luminan flag. The city of the future had arrived.

>upon the roof, lounging on a lawn chair. A musucular, middle aged man with flowing white hair, clad in a busniess suit. His left arm, or at least his hand, was mechanical. In one hand he held a glass of wine, in the other a cigar.

>right next to him was a tall, ball man with a mechanical right eye, dressed in black pants and a grey turtleneck.

>the white hair man spoke, extinguishing his cigar in a nearby ashtray, possessing a gravelly British accent.

Silver City... What do you think, Welner? The most beautiful city in the world, I'd say... Well, second most beautiful/

>he took a sip of his wine, getting up from his chair, turning around to face the Luminan flag that flew on the top of the APC.

Right behind the Metal Oasis: Lumina!

>the bald man, Welner, spoke in a more subdued voice. While quiet, he still carried a aura of confidence, but talked like a Yes Man.

I think so too, Caesar.

>he turned around

Shall we speak with the representatives? I believe Arnfried is one of them. Along with a female mech user, a man in a cyber suit, and...

>Welner paused for a moment, rubbing his metal eye.

...I'm quoting this: "A super fighting robot"

Interesting, interesting... Sounds like a good combination. Hm, very good... Is Ida still with Arnfried?

Yes, she is.

Good, we can always trust that man, can't we?

Yes, we can.

Has the representative's dinner been cooked?

Yes, it has

Advertisements set up?

Yes, they have, in due time.

Good. Did you hear the speech and memorial the man from Guilt Edge set up?

Yes, I have, sir, and it for Mares... Not Guilt Edge.

Ah, Mares... Quite interesting, don't you think? Several people died that day. Out of nowhere. Such a shame... Glad they're paying their respects. Could you leave some gifts by the memorial, later? Show we care.

After the meeting, I can, sir. Anything else, sir.

Nothing at the moment... You can call me Caesar, remember that.

Yes, sir, Caesar.

>Caesar gave his Yes Man a thumbs up.

I knew I could count on you!

That you can, sir.

>the two of them went inside. The inner area of the APC looked more like a house than a huge metal vehicle. Through the use of holographic technology, softer walls, and a heating and cooling system, the cold and foreboding APC was made incredibly homely for those inside of it.

>"There are so many important people from Lumina coming... So many figures are going to be here. We can't fail this... Yet at the same time, have to be good sports."

>it was time to show Lumina isn't all about isolating themselves and refusing to share secrets. That they were more than just technogeeks hiding away in their paradise.

>he soon arrived in a small lounge area, a large circular table in the center of the room and a holographic projector in the middle of it. The table was surrounded by 6 chairs, one for him, one for his daughter Ida, and the rest for the reps; Welner could stand, he didn't mind.

Now we wait...

>Caesar sat down on his chair, which was slightly bigger than the rest.

Lumina!MEOWKdWFcQ 835211

File: 1412042716511.png (462.17 KB, 610x1112, Adolf.png)

>arriving first into the meeting room was a tall, peculiarly dressed man. Wearing a light blue coat, with a high collar that covered his mouth. A watchful eye would notice burns coming up from the collar, if they were to look close enough.

...Am I late?

>Caesar shook his head

>as the newcomer made it to his seat, he was follwed by a small girl, white hair, white skin, red eyes; not an albino, but a android. Who quietly went over to sit next to Caesar.

>for such a imposing man, the representative spoke softly and politely.

...The others will be here shortly, I believe.
This post was edited by its author on .

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 835216

>from outside the locker room that the Elf maiden occupied, she could hear some incoherent shouting coming from nearby
>the shouting would start to make sense as a figure would walk down the hall to the room, a very loud and angry female voice echoing through the area

And if you want to still have legs by the time the sun sets, then you'll go and get me something that doesn't taste like burning hot hog piss!

>the footsteps would come to a stop right at the doorway, Dancie getting a brief look of the shouting woman before she'd turn and look back outside, a green hand grasping onto the doorway's edge

No, I take that back! Hog piss would taste better than that filth!

>the woman would slam her hand against the edge, then turn back and enter the room properly, flipping her long braid of black hair over her shoulder and letting it hit her back

Idiots, from top to bottom!

>the Orc come to a stop against the wall perpendicular to the Elf, letting out a grunt while reaching up and picking at one of her tusks

Get all these rich people from all over the place to host this, and they can't even afford decent drinks...

>she'd lift up the iron club that she had dragging along the floor, propping it up beside her and resting her hand on it

>she'd then look over at Dancie, as if she only just now realized that she was there


>she'd let out a scoffing sound and look away, keeping her eyes on the doorway, waiting to see if the one that she decided to shout at would make a reappearance

Gyfax!RpQzSCoUts 835235

File: 1412044557577.jpg (30.14 KB, 160x225, gray-fox-image-160boxart_160w.…)

>Oop. Speak of the devil.
>Here came that power suited man mentioned earlier. Taking a sort of calm stride towards the boss man and his table.
>Taking a seat next to the other contestant who'd arrived, Gyfax spoke up.

"I presume this is a final strategy meeting, sir?"

>Things should be simple enough. Their technology would likely give a lot of other competitors a "run for their money" as they said.

>If not, the world would at least get to appreciate the demonstration they were about to give of the marriage of the natural flesh and the achievements of Lumina.
>Gyfax laid out his two blunted Vibrodaos in front of himself on the table, inspecting them one last time before they would be tested in battle.
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Xion!.ZzGrellBs 835236

File: 1412044588037.jpg (10.72 KB, 179x282, ICan'tSee.jpg)


>Contrasting the other more lively people in the locker room, a demure figure clothed all in black sits in a lonely corner, her hands folded together and hood obscuring her face from being properly seen.

>The sights of the city weren't new to her, and Belle'Ayn was as much her home as Valorcall with how frequently she traveled between the two. Instead of reflecting on the ceremony involving Aelazandre, the upcoming fights, or even what to have for lunch, Xion muses on the individuals she stood alongside under representation of the country Valorcall and the land of Belle'Ayn.

>Funnily, she didn't originate from either continent. But there was an insistence that she participate, and a fair bit of pressure too from those near her home in Greybreath, an astonishing number of surprisingly tenacious couriers aside.

>The Nords were very proud of their Dragonborn, and a part of Xion wonders if this tournament serves as both a way to glorify Valorcall and Nord strength if she happened to win. She makes no hesitation to think she doesn't deserve this honor to be selected, though all the same she is nervous about it.

>Surrounded by other representatives of the country, Xion feels it best to keep as low-key as possible and does just that. Not every region had a favorable outlook on the Dragonborn, and even in this place she felt the need to keep to herself for the time being.

>At least she wouldn't be necessarily required to be around the group all that often, and security for the event was pretty decent. If anything happened that she wasn't on board for, she had some options to react.


>Xion idly wonders about Crona, and his place in the tourney as well. It was likely he'd be connecting with other familiar faces of the manor in representation. She can't help but wonder what that would be like, though she feels tension wouldn't be as high between Manor residents compared to the interior of the locker room.

Dancie Perl!7iNNPsLMuM 835247

>there was another reason to be worried, as unfortunately, she needed to deal with her "teammates"
>the Orc's shouts would hardly be lost on the fiery haired Elf, her long ears picking them up long before she had approached the door
>exactly why the Orcs were ever allowed a representative by the High King was a mystery to her, but she had no choice but to treat this brute of a woman as her equal in the team
>the Orc's scoff would be responded with a "hmph" by the spearwoman, while her trainer simply backed away into her seat as much as she could to minimize any risk of upsetting the brute somehow
>luckily, it seemed their other teammate was a little softer in her personality
>the small figure was definitely a strange case, not being native to the Nord's territories, or anywhere in Valorcall, yet still being chosen to represent the proud race
>they call her the "Dragonborn", warrior of legends, not just for the Nords, but even across the Elven tales and Orc songs
>not that she believed those old stories, leaving her to actually feel sorry for the poor girl being placed on such an enormous pedestal by a superstitious people
>putting on her kindest smile, the red skinned Elf would carefully approach the hooded figure, leaning down slightly as she reached over to poke her shoulder
Nervous? I'm pretty nervous too...
>her voice was calm and collected, trying to be reassuring to the silent figure
>reaching at the pouch hanging on her belt, she would take out a small pack of strawberry gum, holding it out towards the "Dragonborn
Here. You can have some if you'd like. I have no idea what they are, but I've been hooked on them ever since we docked.

??? 835266

File: 1412046459009.jpg (Spoiler Image,8.82 KB, 222x227, Megaman.jpg)

But father, why must I fight? I thought the Robot Masters were all gone.

>A child pleads to his father. A concerned frown on his bearded face as he looks down at his son.

Because my son, you were asked to do so for the sake of our world.

But why? Couldn't they get someone else to do it? I don't want to fight anymore. All this senseless violence is only going to lead to more pain.

>Slomping his head down, a small tear would build up in his eye. His hands balling up into fists as the thought of more people getting hurt wounded his heart.

Now now my boy, I have lowered the power of your megabuster. For the duration of this tournament you will be unable to deal leathal force.

>His hand reaches forward, a comforting pat on the boy's shoulder. The boy looks up at his father and sees him smile.

And just think. By doing this now you may even encourage others to stand up and do what is right.

>A moment of silence would fill the lab. The boy nods his head and reaches for his helmet beside him.

If you say so, father. If it can help the world then I'll do it.

That's good. Now go, Rock. Go forth and show us that science can be used for good, and not just to destroy.

Yes sir!

>Giving his father a salute, a beam of light would surround the boy, teleporting him instantly to the area where the rest of his team awaited.


Xion!.ZzGrellBs 835270

File: 1412046536124.jpg (10.5 KB, 154x168, Just Play The MGS FOUND Noise.…)


>Xion twitches with a start, her chin tilting up to catch sight of the voice that spoke to her. She sees that one of the figures, the red Elf, had approached her and offered her...gum?


>Xion accepts the offer and takes a piece of gum. She offers a weak smile, then glances aside for a moment, her brain unmercifully blank for conversation topics.

>After a moment, however, something does pop in. The gum provides enough inspiration for some statement.

It's strawberry gum. It's like candy you chew for the flavor.

>Xion unwraps the gum, popping the pink chewy treat into her mouth. The flavor is as sweet as she expected, and does well to perk her up a bit.

>She smiles a little in return for the kind one the Elf wore, and bows her head slightly in greeting.

I'm sorry, I don't think I introduced myself. My name's Xion, it's nice to meet you.

Dancie Perl!7iNNPsLMuM 835289

>the Elf would bow her head in return
Dancie Perl. It's nice to meet you too.
>taking a seat besides the Dragonborn, the Elf would take a piece of gum for herself, quickly tossing the candy at her mouth
>as the sweet flavor washes over her, she lets out a pleased hum, followed by a curious glance at the box from her black eyes
"Gum"... It's a bit strange to name candy after a body part, but it could be called "salamander's buns" for all I care. The flavor is simply magical!
>taking a second to continue flavoring the treat, she would look across the room at her trainer, who gave her a very annoyed look at her fraternizing with a Nord sympathizer
>the Elf spearwoman simply waved her off, turning back to the Dragonborn as she leaned back
This is probably a pretty big honor... I mean, being chosen to represent your entire people, it's nerve wrecking and a ton of pressure, of course... But you can't help feel a tremendous sense of pride and duty towards everyone you've left behind-!
>she would stop and blink, looking down at the Dragonborn with a small and embarrassed blue blush over her cheek
W-Well... I suppose I'm speaking more for myself. Since you're not actually a Nord, and all...

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 835327



>the Orc would keep her gaze to the doorway, but she was actually listening to the conversation between the Elf and the "Dragonborn"

>she felt a bitter taste in her mouth when she thought about the girl sitting in the same room as her who claimed to be the legendary "Dragonborn", a bitter taste that reflected disappointment
>to her people, to the powerful Orcs, the Dragonborn was the supreme adversary, the ultimate fighter, the one who could slay the mightest of monsters with but a word
>and to one lucky Orc, the battle of a lifetime

>she knew it would be her. From the moment she was born, she knew she was meant to be great. She was meant to be legendary

>and when she first heard the story of the Dragonborn, she knew right away that that was how she would do it
>she would defeat the Dragonborn, and become the mightiest being who ever lived
>they would sing songs of her glory for generations to come, and she would ascend into godhood herself

>and after years of believing this, of preparing herself for the greatest fight that any of her kind would ever know...

>she'd meet the Dragonborn, and find her to be a little girl, barely in adulthood
>it made her sick

>a slim, diminutive waiter would slip in at this point, offering a glass to the Orc at the doorway

>she'd take the glass from him and take a swig of the yellow liquid...
>only to immediately spit it back on the floor
>she'd then toss the glass at the wall, which immediately shattered loudly, before she rounded on the waiter

Are you trying to poison me?! Are you trying to kill me with that filth?!

>the waiter would cower under the very tall Orc's gaze, shaking his head repeatedly

N-N-N-No m-m-m-m-ma'am, I-I-I j-j-j-j-j-j-

You "j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-"?!

>she would take on the same frightened tone that the man just exhibited, albeit in a much more snide, mocking tone

>she'd lift a hand and jab it on the man's forehead

What? Does your brain not work, little man? Are you damaged?! Well?!

When I asked you for a drink, I didn't mean some watered-down garbage that can satisfy the pale-skinned tiny-armed weaklings that run things here! I want something that will make me feel like a mammoth just crashed into me right here!

>she'd then slap her hand against her chest a few times to emphasize her point, her own leather armour rattling with each hit

>she'd then lift up her iron club, which reached up to her waist from the floor, looking a lot more like a heavy baseball bat than a traditional club

This is your last chance.

Go and get me a real drink, now.

>the waiter bowed his head repeatedly once the Orc finished shouting, then turned and ran down the hall

>she would give another scoffing sound, moving back into the room and leaning against the same spot on the wall as before

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 835349

File: 1412049902477.png (8.17 KB, 100x100, Seriously.png)


I'm not, really. I just have the 'soul of a dragon' I guess. I never thought when a dragon gives you a soul that it's literally a dragon's, but here we are right now, right?

>Xion blows a small bubble with her gum, allows it to pop, and chews some more in a thoughtful manner.

>She wasn't a Nord, though she hesitates to call herself human sometimes. With everything she's been, it's hard to actually peg what she is anymore.
>Xion glances at the Elf and raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lip turning upwards.

I bet you must be pretty excited, huh? Have you ever participated in these kinds of tournaments before, or is this your first-?


>Xion trails off, her attention diverted towards the absolute ruckus caused by the tall Orc and the cowering waiter. Something hardens in Xion's eyes, her neutral expression quickly turning sour the more she watches.


>Maybe it's because she dislikes seeing people bullied, or maybe the sight of the meek waiter trembling in his spot reminded her of someone she knew.

>But, one moment Xion is seated next to Dancie, and the next she's on her feet, marching right towards the Orc.
>She lets out a short bark, her first word strangely amplified (or it seems so; seeing as Xion seemed far too tiny to be able to make such a loud noise).


What the heck do you thing you're doing harassing the poor guy like that?! We're all supposed to be bringing honor to our country we're representing while we're in a foreign land; what's honorable about picking on the staff and threatening them before the events even start?!

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 835358

>the Orc would actually hear Xion bark in her direction - it'd be impossible for her not to, given the surprising volume to her voice
>as such, Xion would likely notice that the tall Orc woman would give a slight flinch at her command


>however, for a few seconds she at least pretends she didn't hear anything

>until she slowly turns her head to look at Xion, still looking highly annoyed and disappointed with what she saw before her


>she then gave another scoff, this time having her mouth widen into a grin

>she'd reach up with her free hand and rub a finger in her ear, before pulling it out and cupping her hand around her whole ear, turning and leaning forward slightly

What's that?

I couldn't hear you all the way down there, little girl!

>she'd turn her head to look at Xion, then reach over and grab her hood, yanking it a bit further over her face

>all the while she continued to speak in that same mocking, deriding tone of voice

Why don't you try that one more time...?

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 835382

File: 1412051534419.png (30.69 KB, 209x174, Ew no nasty pervert thoughts g…)



>Xion winces, the hood yanks forcibly over her face enough to nearly make her fall onto the floor from the grip. Her teeth grind together, but the Keyblade Wielder refuses to Shout to get her point across.


>Instead, she smiles a little recklessly, and scoffs.

Wow, you must be pretty deaf to miss that. Did you stuff that sausage of a finger in your ear too many times before today?

Dancie Perl!7iNNPsLMuM 835390

>the Elf was more than ready to just ignore the brutish actions of the Orc, but the person she was speaking to clearly didn't think the the same way
it quickly became obvious there was much more to this "Dragonborn" than she initially let on, as she approached the much larger woman without any fear
>unfortunately, this beast wasn't so easily tamed, and the two of them could easily come to blows before the tournament actually began
>reaching behind her, the Elf would remove the long staff on her back, the tip where would normally stand a pointed end instead holding an oval weight
>as she stood to her feet, the spear would be brought down against the floor, a loud "tock" sounding out in the locker room
Ladies, please! This really isn't necessary!
>she would quickly approach the two, holding up a hand
Let's just calm down, alright? We're supposed to be a team, after all.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 835397

>the Orc raised an eyebrow when Xion tossed a barb back at her, but it didn't seem to impress her that much, her wide grin only growing

Well, actually it's because all I heard from you was a squeak that a mouse would have a hard time-

>she'd turn her head up to look at Dancie once she spoke, straightening up to address the Elf properly

Oh, that's right, I forgot!

This is supposed to be for "peace" and all that, isn't it?

>the Orc would let out a loud bark for a laugh at this, clearly amused by the idea

As if we could actually be peaceful with one another!

Let's stop lying to each other, huh? This is a competition between us just as much as it is with them!

>she jabs a thumb at the doorway, just as the waiter returned with another glass

>whether or not she actually meant the waiter in particular wasn't really clear, but the message was still obvious

It's all about which of our races is truly the best of all of us!

>she'd then look back to Xion, her mocking sneer directed right into her eyes

Those of us who are one of the races, anyway.

>she'd turn and swipe up the glass from the waiter, downing the dark brown liquid in one gulp


>she licked her oversized teeth for a second, then gave an unenthused shrug

I guess that'll do.

>she roughly put the glass back in the waiter's hand, then pointed down the hall

More of that. In bottles.

And hurry up!

>the waiter nodded profusely again, then turned and rushed out of the room, the Orc just watching him go with an amused grin

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 835406

File: 1412053820533.png (74.71 KB, 335x418, What The Frick Now!.PNG)


>Xion scowls and steps back, pushing her hood from over her face, revealing her dark hair and sullen expression.

>She holds no animosity towards the Dancie; she was trying to keep everything civil. Xion knows that's the best, though the way the Orc had acted towards the poor waiter had rubbed her terribly wrong.

It'd be pretty embarrassing for you if you happened to lose in your round then, huh? I already get that I'm not really a Nord, but maybe this isn't all about race for them.

>Likely for the Nords it was all about faith instead. Xion wouldn't dare say it out loud, though, and give the Orc the gratification of being right in some terrible assumption.

Dancie Perl!7iNNPsLMuM 835408

>the Elf would simply glare at the Orc for a long time, her black eyes locked up at the other woman's face
>until eventually, a sharp toothed grin stretched over face, the red Elf leaning on her spear slightly
Someone has pretty high opinions of herself! I assure you, there is no competition between us...
>she would flick her free hand, lightly slapping the Orc's arm
Because, quite frankly, you're no competition for me with that oversized rat-swatter, Orc.

>the Elf would look back, giving the Dragonborn a smile, clearly liking this fiery side of her
>but a movement at the locker room's door would catch her attention, making her turn her head-

This post was edited by its author on .

Kie Gran Yu!7iNNPsLMuM 835410

>in the middle of the discussion, the door would open once again, but not by the poor waiter with the Orc's drinks
>walking into the locker would be an average sized figure, yet one with enough presence to instantly be noticed above even the massive Orc
>the figure would be entirely clad in black and golden armor, closely resembling that of a samurai, yet the armor would hold four arms
>the mask worn would completely hide the figure's face, along with having no features itself, simply being a smooth black reflective surface, not unlike glass
>for the Dragonborn, such a figure would hold little meaning besides what she saw: a heavily armored Drok, with two swords on either side of his hips, and two more behind his back
>but for the Valorcall natives, the black armor told much more than any words could
>the figure belonged to those known as the Winds of the Storm, the elite warriors of the Drokauhwan Empire
>this was more than a simple competitor, more than someone with skill that had been handpicked to participate in the tournament
>this was a trained soldier of the most feared and legendary force of the Drok army

>the armored figure would simply step forward, passing between the Elf and the Orc
>without a single word, or even a passing glance, it would cross the locker room, and take a seat near the corner
>with all four arms crossed, the figure stood silently, paying no attention towards their teammates

King Chromulus Tiberia the Third!pR.BaFF/uk 835472

File: 1412078004202.jpg (38.17 KB, 500x364, tumblr_n8qlqtg4gk1s4l9kwo1_500…)

Sire, please stay inside the tent for now!

Nonsense, Myra! I shall not sit still and miss such a gracious opportunity! We have been humbly invited by the kind people of Victin into their home and it would be a great dishonour not to experience that which they offe-
Gah..! Who put this pole here!?

... it was placed when the tent was erected, Sire.

... it was?
>A blank look escaped the blue-haired man for a moment before he regained his composure, straightening his shirt and adjusting his decorative armour.
I shall forgive the pole incident, then.
>It was particularly clear by his red face and expression the King was simply trying to cover up for his blatant clumsiness, by he could not let this cause his will to falter!

Sire, I truly must request again that you stay here for the moment, the last thing we need is for you to get lost amidst the city!

Nonsense, Myra!
>It seemed that was a phrase Myra Bevelle had heard often, as the King's Steward let out a telltale sigh with a shake of her head knowing full-well she could not simply dissuade her Highness's motivation.
>When she looked back towards him, however, the atmosphere in the tent felt vastly different, as though the sight of her King bumping his forehead into a tent pole had never even occurred. The next words from his lips no longer had the jovial tone from earlier, and instead were far less abrupt and loud, almost melancholic in nature.

Kings, Queens, Presidents, Lords and Ladies, have all gathered here from across the world for this one event. It is a marvel far unlike the meetings of the World Council and is also the first of its kind. This is no mere competition between warriors, Myra, this is history unfolding before our very eyes and we cannot afford to hide while others face such greatness head-on.

It is no secret that our nation is less than impressive to most. We rely on resources from others whilst our own continue to fade, our own citizens are leaving to greener pastures. We are weak, yet even if the world here were a harsher place no-one would wish to invade our land for there is nothing to obtain. It is for this reason, for my country, for my people, that I must be confident, both in myself and our champions, and must stand with pride, Myra.

For if a King cannot stand proud for their nation, what right does he have to ask for their loyalty?

>Silence filled the Vescarian tent for a moment. The Royal Steward was still taken aback by the shift in tone and the heavy words that were spoken, but it was then she felt reminded of a simple fact - this was not young Chrom the clumsy prince, but her King, and one she would follow and serve until her passing or his.

I apologise for my insistence, Sire...

Nonsense, Myra, you were only concerned, and that concern has been appreciated since I was but a boy. I still am, in some regards, and I am glad for your presence still.

>With a low bow, Ms Bevelle could not hold back an honest smile.

Your words are too kind, my King.

>Nodding in appreciation for his Steward's comment, he proceeded toward the front of the tent, opening the curtain-like entrance wide and allowing the bright sunlight to light the interior.

Fear not, I shall watch my step at your advice. For now, let us gather the Champions and head for the memorial - whilst I cannot match nor compete with King Rebaine's address, I would at least like us to pay a tribute to the fallen. After that, I believe sampling the local cuisine would be an excellent idea.

Do you have anything in mind, Sire?

Well, if nothing else, I am most curious to meet with the one known as the 'King of Burgers'...
This post was edited by its author on .

!Ren/VL7f/Q 835522

File: 1412101720509.png (384.24 KB, 539x489, Preparingnoblewoman'slaugh.png)

>The final member to arrive was a young girl, no older than her teens, but she had just as much right to be here as any other. She walked gracefully but confidently, after all, she was one of the best at what she did!

>Her name was Cecilia Alcott, she was the pilot of the 3rd generation mech suit 'Blue Tears' and young though she may be, she was most certainly ready for the battles ahead. The portrait of serenity that was her face hid the intense excitement she had for the upcoming contest, it was a chance to show that Lumina, but more importantly her, was the best, and she wouldn't squander it.

Patches 835554

>Everyone was here... Caesar cleared his voice.

Right then...

>he looked to the man in the coat

Arnfried Baumberg. Nanomachine Based scientist and former member of the Luminan Special Forces.

>then to the man in the cyber suit

Gyfax. Vibroblade and cybersuit combat specialist.

>to the robot

Rock Man, AKA Megaman. Specialized robot built to fight other, renegade, robots.

>then lastly, to the girl.

Cecilia Alcott. Mech suit specialist despite her young age, able to pilot the "Blue Tears" mech suit.

>Caesar grinned, staring at the four

We have quite the collection of pretty faces and specialties here, know don't we? But, on to business... Let me ask you a question, before Vorsitch gives his speech.

Why are you here?

Patches 835562

>Arnfried was silent for a moment, the mention of the name Vorsitch surprising him. Anyone who lived in Lumina knew that name... Vorsitch, one of the original founders of Lumina keeping himself alive through machines, whose genius built the city from the ground up, and his said to be one of the most brilliant minds in the world... He was here? He couldn't fumble his words...

I wanted to show what Lumina can do, as in what it is capable of with technology alone... Also..

>he looked to the young girl sitting beside Caesar.

Ida talked me into it when she heard about it.

Gyfax!RpQzSCoUts 835761

File: 1412129411034.jpg (372.39 KB, 476x540, Metal_Gear_Solid__Grey_Fox.jpg)

>Ah yes. That question. The answer to that one rang quite clear in the man's head.
>In fact, it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to him.

"To show Lumina's advances in transhumanism."

>Simple as that.

Megaman!rjtGfDeadI 835768


>Megaman sits in his chair, his head lowered as he himself is unsure of the answer. Remembering his fathers words he looks back up at the man in charge.

T-to represent my father's ideals of a better world through robotics.

King Chromulus Tiberia the Third!pR.BaFF/uk 836109

File: 1412200682382.png (103.79 KB, 500x292, tumblr_n3y7h5waO11qdiamso3_500…)

>Sitting in the stands, the audience seemed to grow more excited - the first bout was going to begin shortly, and both Vescaria and Valorcall appeared to have the honour of the opening fight. The King sat in a VIP booth far above the arena, looking both down at the scene itself and also the close-up feeds on various monitors - it seemed nothing was spared in making this as much a spectator event as possible.

Sire, remind me again why you selected this... particular Champion?

I realise that you have your doubts about him, Myra, but as the direct descendant of one of our country's most impactful figures in recent history I believe he has both the right, and the skill, to represent us.

But your highness, he...

If nothing else, he certainly has the kind of spirit that the people here wish to see, for the sake of peace and prosperity. Though I'll admit he has a tendency to be a little... flamboyant.

>And thus, they and everyone else at the Arena looked on as the first competitor walked out onto the stage being watched the world over.


Vescarian Competitor !tsGpSwX8mo!!GODfBrNWKP 836117

File: 1412201553363.png (Spoiler Image,453.3 KB, 670x886, Hell to the yeah.png)

>Stepping out into the open ground was an unorthodox looking fighter. Covered in what appeared to be somewhat shoddy, makeshift armour and looking relatively scrawny for a 'Champion' trying to play Knight, he nonetheless stepped out confidently, as if he had absolute faith in himself and his capabilities.

>Standing proud, he reached a short ways into his side of the stage before brandishing and flourishing a pair of daggers in a display of both dexterity and grace - too much, almost, as though the series of spins, flicks and tricks had been practiced each night for weeks solely for this one occasion.

>When he was finished, he called out toward the other side of the arena.

Glory be to you who step out to fight on this day, for we who do battle fight not as enemies, but as gladiators competing for valour!

I, Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth, look forward to this grand duel with you, my opponent!

>And with a brief bow to end his little tirade, his bright red hair flopping back and forth in the winds of the arena, he prepared to face the other competitor.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836123

>the Vescarian knight would quickly be greeted by the sight of a tall green-skinned woman, clad in simple leather armour that seemed to be more out of necessity than actual forethought, the material looking quite old and worn
>she wouldn't really react to the display of dexterity by the red-haired warrior, just staring at him with her mouth hanging open slightly, displaying her impressive lower fangs while carrying a thoroughly bored expression


>she would sigh and heft up her club turning to the side and giving it a few practice swings, apparently opting to ignore the Vescarian for the time being


Referee!pinkie78Os 836125

>a burst of purple smoke would erupt in between the Orc woman and the red-headed man, quickly clearing away to reveal a man not in a striped referee outfit, but instead what looked like a bright yellow-and-red uniform that looked like it belonged to a military sergeant
>the man had a bit of a dazed look in his eye, evidentially not all there, picking up a microphone in one hand and a small card in the other

Ah...OK then...let's see who we got 'ere...

>he would let out a cough, then gesture to the Vescarian

In this corner, representing the country of Vescaria...Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!

>he would pause and narrow his eyes, then blink and shake his head

Blimey, that's a mouthful...

>he'd then gesture to the Orc woman on his other side

And in this corner, representing the country of Valorcall...Horde Smasher!

>he would again narrow his eyes, then tilt his head

Huh...not exactly pretty-sounding-

>he would jolt when he heard the woman give a clear growl in his direction, then lift his hand up

Righto then, folks! I want a good, clean fight, so no shenanigans or nonsense involved!


Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Benedict goes first
>odds, Horde Smasher does

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836130

File: 1412205113516.jpg (173.5 KB, 600x400, tumblr_lu2a7t3f2r1r4ns50o1_128…)

>Well, at least she looked prepared...? Benedict was, naturally, a little disappointed that his correspondence ended up being one-sided, but he ended up concluding that not everyone could keep up with his level of energy and vigour. The practice swings seemed solid, if a little lazy, but why would they be here if they couldn't hold their own?

>He used his full name! Excellent! Now there was no need for correction or clarity when his name appeared on the history books. Maybe after years of adventuring he could finally claim a prize worth fighting for! The competition would be fierce, but who would have it any other way? The hope in his heart made his eyes twinkle with the age-old naivety of an optimist, and he prepared for his first battle with the legendary Horde Smasher of Valorcall!

>Or at least, that's what he told himself.

>At the sound of the all-clear for liftoff, he shifted into a simple battle stance, one hand free whilst the other held in it a small, simple dagger.

With pleasure!

>The blade suddenly sparked to life with a blue glow forming around it, the arcane energy whirring as the free hand connected with the floor.

Enchantment: Wind!

>His lightly-armoured boots began to lift ever so slightly off the ground, a small vortex of air surrounding them. Kicking off in a horizontal dash towards the Orc, it seemed he was able to almost glide across the ground at great speed, looking to pass by her side whilst twisting his upper body to slash with the dagger towards one of her arms. Hopefully he would be able to slip by and get on the other side of her after the fact.

Roll 1d1000 = 110

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836143

>as soon as the call was made to start the fight, the Orc spun and lunged at her opponent, her club raised high to strike down on the Vescarian
>this would be over in just a matter of seconds, just one good hit-
>but then the redhead flew right past her, much to her surprise


>she'd then feel something slice into her shoulder, causing her to halt and grunt in displeasure

>she'd reach up and rub the spot, pulling her hand away to stare at the blood that was already there


>she closed her fist and growled again, already getting annoyed

>she just knew that this one would be one of those quick, hit-and-run type of fighters, and she hated those
>just flitting about the battlefield, out of her immediate reach, and when she did reach them they went down way too easily
>to her, people like that were more like buzzing flies, just waiting to be squashed
>which she would gladly do
>spinning back around, she hefted her club back up and swung wildly at Benedict, the heavy metal object flying at his midsection
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 926

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836163

File: 1412207866782.png (196.48 KB, 547x371, Upper hand!.png)

>She was surprised, at least! Truth be told, he wondered how she'd fare too - those jaws did look particularly menacing, as did the club she sent towards his body almost immediately after taking her wound. It was correct, of course, he was relatively frail compared to the prowess of someone like herself, but that meant he had to work with what he had to compensate for that difference.

>The wind enchantment still in effect, he leapt up into the air, gaining at least twice her height in distance and narrowly avoiding the swing.

Enchantment: Force!

>Bring out a second dagger whilst in the air, the seemingly sharp edge of the magic vanished, and it seemed to settle into a soft, rippling curve that almost appeared compressed.

>As gravity brought him back down, within the next couple of seconds he kicked in the air - he couldn't windwalk with the enchantment, but he could at least shift his position just enough to fall behind her.

>With a two-handed swing, he brought both daggers towards her back.

Roll 1d1000 = 553
>Evens, and the daggers connect, the magic bursting in a large pulse of force like a giant hammer had been swung there to knock her aside.

>Odds, failure to the opponent's discretion

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836170

>the Orc would look up as Benedict leapt higher into the air, her teeth clenching when she heard him let out the shout in mid-air
>of course he would be using magic too, just to further aggravate her
>while magic was certainly well-known in Valorcall, it was not something she subscribed to at all
>no, her forte was something far more simple
>as Benedict fell back to earth, she would step to the side to get out of the range of his daggers, then swing her iron club up at his midsection again while he still hung in the air
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 463

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836174

File: 1412209063645.png (229.27 KB, 363x346, welp.PNG)

>Wait, he was supposed to be falling to her back... why could he see her front- Oh.
>That was a club, and this was a bad idea when the opponent was self aware enough to take advantage of a mid-air opponent!
>If he didn't do something now, something was probably going to happen to his kidney, and he liked his kidneys.

>Thankfully, he hadn't yet used up the Force enchantments on his daggers, so with a quick redirect..!

Roll 1d1000 = 514
>Evens, and he manages to get one to connect with the club, the combined swings bouncing off each other and sending him flying sideways, his wind-enchanted boots allowing him to just about land safely and only taking a minor scrape on the ground, quickly turning to try to react to her next attack.

>Odds, and it seemed his mid-section was closer to the club than his arms were, the club slamming him in the side and sending him in the same direction, but his landing was far from nice. Rolling several times in the dirt, the force enchantments went off on the ground, causing a mess of dust to both half-blind him and leave him coughing, vulnerable and open to attack whilst hoping none of his lower ribs had broken.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836176



>the Orc would reel back from the recoil of the magical impact, wobbling a bit and looking like she was going to fall on her back

>but she quickly straightens herself again, standing shakily on her two feet again
>she'd look across the ring at her opponent again, and this time let out an angry snarl that quickly shifted into some sort of animalistic growl

Just hold still, will you?!

>she wasted no time running across the ring again, hefting her club up as she ran

>once she got close enough, she'd swing wildly at his side, the weighted iron aimed at Benedict's ribs
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 544

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836185

File: 1412210573626.png (192.82 KB, 411x338, To Battle!.png)

>He was lucky to have gained a bit of distance from her as it provided him a couple of extra second to think of a plan of action.
>Hold still? What could of idiot would - Wait...
>With a slight grin on his face, he took everything into account for a moment. He still had one dagger with the force enchantment on it, and enough time for one spell.

Alright, have it your way!

>Suddenly the wind dissipated from his boots, the almost-floating effect fading with it. Instead, they glowed very briefly-

Enchantment - Earth!

>-before becoming covered in a hard, thick stone and actually digging in to the arena, providing a solid base as he swung the second force-dagger in response to her attack.

Roll 1d1000 = 461
>Odds, Min Effect - The force dagger connects with her arm, but because of his well-rooted position, the somewhat-scrawny Benedict actually manages to push her back this time.

>Evens, Max Effect - The force dagger connects with it's intended target - the club, and the rooted position allows Benedict to get enough pressure behind the swing itself to blast back the swing and dislodge the club itself, sending it flying over and behind Horde Smasher.

>It wouldn't do a great amount of damage, but it was a good disarming move.

>If Evens, he keeps the grin and gives the now-depleted dagger a very small flourish.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836201

>the Orc would halt again when the dagger connected with the underside of her arm, her body seizing up for just a moment
>she'd then reel back as the magical energy burst forth through her arm, a loud roar of pain leaving her mouth


>her right arm would fall limp at her side, her left arm still holding her club as she halted her movement again a few paces away from Benedict

>she'd clench her oversized teeth again and look down at her arm, clenching her fist and hissing in pain, her shoulder now bleeding from two spots
>she'd whip her head over to glare at Benedict, his smug expression only serving to further agitate her, another snarl leaving her mouth
>she'd heft her club back up, managing to dash ahead a couple of paces before swinging at Benedict again with her one arm, the blow aimless and unplanned
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 695

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836206

File: 1412213347647.jpg (142.41 KB, 600x400, tumblr_ltr9osBTIu1r4ns50o1_128…)

>Aimless and unplanned it may have been, but against an opponent who had currently just lost the best means to defend himself, and was also rooted to the spot, it definitely held some weight.
>Either he did something here or he'd just end up getting flattened, because he had a feeling you didn't want to mess with a flailing, enraged Orc.

>But what to do!? He didn't have the time to charge up another pair of Force enchantments, and if he kept using one-off enhancements like that he'd burn through mana way too quickly. Instead, Benedict had to opt for 'deflection' rather than 'repel'.

Enchantment: Surge!

>Unlike a regular lightning enchantment meant for damage, this one created a surge around the blades similar to that of the arcane blades from earlier, but instead of focusing on the electrical effect it instead created a very small magnetic repulsion field - perfect for dealing with people who used iron swords.

>Whether or not it would be enough to stand the full force of an Orc-swung iron club, though...

Roll 1d1000 = 799
>Evens, through determination and good placement of his swings, the blades manage to repel the club enough to direct it off course, the swing missing any contact with his body.

>Odds, and it's not enough - the momentum she'd build up with her furious charge overpowers the poorly attempted block, the heavy, bulky weapon colliding with his chest and actually uprooting him from the ground despite his weighted boots and sending him flying several feet onto the ground with a loud groan of pain.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836214

>the Orc woman would stumble again after the Vescarian was finally sent flying across the ring, the momentum of her club carrying her a bit further ahead
>she'd raise her head after a moment to survey the damage she'd done, grinning after a moment more once she was aware of what happened

Not so smug anymore, are you...?

>she'd stalk over to where Benedict had fallen, shaking her wounded arm a couple of times to try and get some of the feeling back, dragging her club behind her as she walked

>she'd stop right beside the Vescarian, then reach down to grab his collar and haul him back up
>she'd give a short scoff, and-
Roll 1d1000 = 930
>evens, drop him back to his feet...only to sock him in the face with a quick punch
>odds, she'd haul him up over her head, lifting him into the air with both of her hands, before violently throwing him back down and slamming him onto the concrete

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836218

File: 1412215564339.png (219.58 KB, 553x477, That cannot end well at all.pn…)

>The grip felt painful as he was lifted up, mostly because of the recent whack he'd taken to the chest but also because his boots were still enchanted with earth, making his body feel like it was stretching downwards. The scary thing was that she lifted him up with ease despite that.
>As he quickly disenchanted them to ease his pain, he found himself on the floor again, looking up at the Orc in confusion - only to get punched in the face, stumbling back as he reached a hand to touch his jaw whilst he dealt with the pain. He'd really taken some punishment with those two hits, and was immediately glad the clubs strikes from earlier hadn't connected as they should've.

I'll admit that various mistakes were made...

>Coughing briefly, his chest still felt heavy. He couldn't afford to try tricky things right now, far better to go with the more practical applications.

>Of course, he'd really have to watch out for that club - his head was already starting to feel a little off from that Orc-sized punch.
>Time to go for the old one-two.

Enchantment - Wind!
>One boot began to swirl with the same torrent of air as before, while the other-
Enchantment - Blast!
>Seemed to gain a very light fiery-aura around it.
>He didn't want to put too much pressure on his torso right now so using the daggers was something to spare for good blows, for now he'd just have to use the lower half of his body whilst it was still uninjured.

>Kicking off with the wind-boot, he used the air pressure to launch towards Horde's chest, thrusting out a kick with the other boot.

Roll 1d1000 = 110
>Evens, the kick connects and a small explosion blasts from the fiery boot, having slightly less impact than the force from before but adding the extra effects of heat and flame to the mix.

>Odds, failure to the opponent's discretion

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836224

>the Orc would clench and unclench her hand a few more times, her wounded arm slowly but surely getting back to semi-optimal condition
>she'd look back up at Benedict as he started to prepare another attack of his own, which was all she needed to haul up her club and get ready to swing again
>what she wasn't ready for was for him to leap up and blast her in the chest with his foot



>the force of the miniature explosion was still strong enough to knock her back aways, the Orc not even having time to shout as she would skid back across the concrete ring

>she'd very soon come to a stop, laying on the hard ring for a few seconds, her chest still smoking from the blow


>she'd then lift her wounded hand up and ball it into a fist, then quickly slam it against the burnt area


>she'd give a loud grunt of pain, but it would seem to re-energize her somewhat, her legs starting to curl up

>she'd lift her fist again and bring it back down


>she'd soon push up to a sitting positon, her other hand still grasping her club

>another movement by her fist, and another instance of it slamming into her chest


>she'd move up to a kneeling position, her club dragging against the concrete

>she'd lift up again, then slam down again


>finally, shakily, she'd make it up to her feet, though she was still hunched over, seemingly still in pain from the attack

>once more, she'd swing her hand out, then slam it against the burnt area on her chest


>she'd turn her last pained cry into a roar of defiance, not willing to give in to the Vescarian's sorcery just yet

>then, without warning, she'd heft her club up and spin in a circle, before suddenly throwing it in Benedict's direction, the iron club spinning about as it flew right for him
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 982

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836227

File: 1412217724908.png (488.71 KB, 553x465, Come and get me.PNG)

>Landing shortly after his strike, he looked across to see the situation unfold. She was down, but far from out. Judging by that shout, the steadily building one that sounded more threatening by the moment, she was preparing something particularly nasty if it caught him.
>He'd expected another berserking blow, the kind that would knock him down and keep him down. What he didn't expect was for her to throw the club she had beaten him with only moments earlier, which was approaching him at a speed far more rapid than even a charging Orc.

>Thankfully, he was used to using his enchantments to adapt to different situations, and he had a good pair set up to cope.

>Kicking off with the explosive boot as well as the wind-based one, he managed to perform a sidewards dive away from the trajectory of the club. As he fell, the plain daggers once again regained their arcane glow, a simple one merely meant to make them cut better.

Looks like we're going all in on this...!

>His head was still fuzzy from the punch, and the more strain he put on his upper body the worse it would get over time, but if he could just aim this shot-!

Enchantment - Blink!

>Temporal Magic was always the most difficult magic to learn for any Vescarian, so much so that it was rare to see it be used outside of the dedicated teleportation rings. Benedict was far from an expert, but he had managed to tie in a little bit with his own enchantment expertise. If he used it on his armour it would be useless, Blink would just leave him naked on the battlefield, but when used on his daggers he could turn them into deadly precision weapons.

>Aiming for both of her legs, the daggers warped through the space between them, but would his aim hold true?

Roll 1d1000 = 534
Roll 1d2 = 2
>How many connect if hit

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836234

>the Orc known as Horde Smasher would feel a brief pang of regret as she threw her weapon away, but it wasn't exactly a well thought-out move
>frustration was clearly taking hold of her; she knew she'd hate this opponent, and she was right to, as he was acting exactly as she predicted he would
>all he had to do was get closer to her, but he was keeping his distance and out of her range of attack



>she would let out another roar of equal parts pain and anger, as both of his knives had somehow teleported themselves right into her shins, which also resulted in her falling on her rear

>she'd reach down and start to pull the knives out, the blades having also gone through her leather armour in the process - which was expected, given how old the material was
>she was far too prideful to get rid of the set, having worn it for so many years that it was practically her second skin at this point
>but as she started to pull the knives out, she realized that now he was effectively weaponless too, and he'd have to draw closer to retrieve them
>meaning that he'd be withing her range again
>so, with this thought in mind, Horde Smasher began slowly removing the blades, taking her time to get them out, knowing that it'd lure the Vescarian all the closer the longer she waited

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836243

File: 1412219931583.png (421.39 KB, 569x465, Hrrrrmmm.PNG)

>They had gone all in with their weapons, and somehow he'd come out on top. Between her wounded arm and his shaky vision from the punch earlier, it seemed it was harder to throw with the former, but she was right in that he now had nothing but his armour. It still had the wind and explosive enchantments on (the latter of which he had to be careful with) so he had the potential to finish this with just that.
>There was something that caught his eye, though.

>Disenchanting the boots, he began to walk without worry of magical interference, but it wasn't towards Horde Smasher. Instead, he approached the large hunk of iron on the ground close by, reaching down to pick it up - only to find it far too heavy to lift.

>In a slightly amusing struggle he kept giving it an attempt, but his scrawny arms couldn't pick up and hold the club long enough to swing it with anything close to the kind of force the Orc had used.
>It was a bust idea to try and throw this thing, it wouldn't even make three feet.

>But what if he didn't have to throw it?

>A few seconds later his plan came to fruition. Leaving the club on the floor, he rotated it around so that the large, thick end was pointed in Horde Smasher's direction.

>A brief glance between her position and that of the club revealed his intent immediately.

Well, here goes nothing.

>Taking a few paces back, he took one more glance before running forward, swinging his right leg back-

Enchantment - Force!
>-before swinging it down towards the handle of the club, his boot shimmering with a soft glow as his foot collided with the club, a shockwave ringing out as the weapon was sent flying in direction of the semi-immobile Orc.

Roll 1d1000 = 720

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836248

>she'd continue to slowly pull the knives out from her shins, her teeth gritting as she tried to ignore the pain that was shooting through her legs
>all she had to do was keep up appearances for just a bit longer, and then she'd squash this annoying man like-
>she would hear him cry out again and look up, just in time to see her own club flying right at her head



>the club makes its mark with ease, the Orc falling back and hitting the concrete once again, the blow having definitely sent her for a loop

>she'd let out a dulled, pained groan, her vision blurring in and out of focus, her body going immobile for a moment


>she'd then give another snarl, this one much weaker but no less enraged by how this was going

>she wasn't just any Orc that wandered into its first battleground!
>she was meant to be the one who would slay the Dragonborn!
>she would not fall here!
>her hands would move up and grab the two knives in her legs, suddenly ripping them out in one swift motion


>letting out another roar, she would then push back up to her feet, reaching back and grabbing her club as well

>with the daggers in one hand and the club dragging behind in the other, she would resume stomping towards Benedict, blood dripping down her face as she glared viciously at her target

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836352

File: 1412261339558.gif (1.8 MB, 500x375, tumblr_n7tivp2CR71tqy6tyo1_500…)

>He shoots, he scores! Admittedly he was helped greatly by the fact that his target was immobile but either way it was one hefty kick. Hopefully that would be that.
>But it wasn't.
>Oh boy, it wasn't.
>She was up, she was angry, and she had all the weapons now thanks to his genius idea. Worst of all, she was getting closer.
>It was getting pretty hard to come up with any ideas that didn't involve getting close and being immediately mauled.

That's, uuuh, one heck of a bloodthirsty expression you've got there, Miss Smasher...! Don't suppose you're considering not crushing me into the dirt at all, are you? ...No? Oookay then...

>Benedict's uneasy nervousness at the approaching Orc only grew with every pace. He didn't have her resilient body, if he took another nasty shot to the body or head again it'd be all he could do to stand let alone fight - the force and explosion enchantments had caused enough feedback to make his arms and left leg ache a little so he wasn't sure if he could keep dodging her til she tired out - she'd get him eventually, and then he'd go down.

>He needed a plan, but what could stop a charging Orc that wouldn't end up sending him flying out of the other side of the arena?

>Looking around whilst trying to keep an eye on her, he had a few seconds at most. His vision caught the sunlight accidentally and he flinched slightly, the mixture of that with his mild headache not doing him good.

>Wait... the sun?
>No, it was behind her. He could jump over her to get her to turn around but that risked him being up in the air again.

>But what if he didn't have to move? He knew where her vision was.

>It was such a simple idea and he kicked himself for not thinking of it instantly. Hell, he didn't have to kick himself, because now Horde Smasher was practically next to him and about to brutalise his miserable excuse for a collection of bone and sinew.
>Clapping his hands together, an energy began to churn between them. Would half a second be enough time?

Roll 1d1000 = 106
>Odds, this particular idea required more effort than he was used to, and there was no way he'd make it in time before the Orc made her own move.


.... FLASH!
>The blue glow suddenly spread across his body before locking in to all of his armour plates. Benedict closed his eyes just before the roughly forged armour all across his body shone with an intensely bright light, even if it was just for a moment.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836386

>the Orc would continue to stomp towards Benedict, running on pure adreneline at this point, ignoring the pain shooting through her legs and her head just so she could get her hands on the pest of a Vescarian
>it would only take a couple of seconds to end this; she didn't even need the weapons she was carrying, all she needed was her bare hands to-


-! DAH!

>the Orc would stop in her tracks as the man's armour would flash bright blue for a brief but effective second, her eyes now basically shutting down from the assault to her senses

>she'd lift her arms up to shield them, her hands still gripping her weapons, an agitated growl leaving her before she would shout at Benedict

I am tired of this idiocy, Vescarian!

One way or another, I'm going to send you out of here with your bones in pieces!

So just hold still and stop stalling!

>she'd swipe out at the air with both of her hands as she said this, but she kept her eyes closed, unaware of where exactly Benedict was now and basically just venting her anger on nothing

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836394

File: 1412270132304.png (267.03 KB, 331x360, Oh, really.PNG)

Awh, c'mon now! Fighting's not all about smashing each other to pieces! I like to think of it less as stalling and more... preparation.

>With the glow now fading rapidly, he had a very limited time window to make his move. Hell, he was lucky that went off in the first place, she clearly had the advantage in force and brutality. All Benedict had was a little cunning, but he'd also managed to frustrate her and hopefully that was stacking things in his favour as well, as scary as an angry Orc was.

>With a light-footed dash, he moved around to her back whilst she was still flailing - even if he could reach his new target from the front, the likelihood of her bonking him one on the head was far too great to risk. Whilst he could really do with his weapons back, trying to wrestle with the grip of an Orc sounded like a really stupid idea.

>In a quick motion, he attempted to place his hands on the rough leather covering her back.

Roll 1d1000 = 688
>Odds, failure of the opponent's discretion


Enchantment: Heat!
>Horde Smasher would quickly feel the temperature of her rear leather armour rising to a more than uncomfortable level.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836395

>the Orc would raise her arms again reflexively, spots still flashing before her eyes
>she'd try to open them again, hesitant to actually use them at the moment for fear of greater damage to them
>after a moment or two, they'd open up for just a second, then quickly shut again, still searing with pain
>but in that brief timeframe, she'd see something rather important
>the Vescarian had disappeared


>and when she felt her back suddenly start burning, she realized where he went


>with another roar that mixed surprise, pain, and anger, she spun around and swung her club wildly, her eyes still closed, making her attack unfocused and aimless

>odds Roll 1d1000 = 351

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836397

Ignore previous post, MLPchan won't let me edit or delete.
>the Orc would raise her arms again reflexively, spots still flashing before her eyes
>she'd try to open them again, hesitant to actually use them at the moment for fear of greater damage to them
>after a moment or two, they'd open up for just a second, then quickly shut again, still searing with pain
>but in that brief timeframe, she'd see something rather important
>the Vescarian had disappeared


>and when she felt her back suddenly start burning, she realized where he went


>with another howl that mixed surprise, pain, and anger, she'd jump away from Benedict and start running away from him, acting thoughtlessly due to the burning pain shooting through her back, assuming that she was now on fire

>she'd open her eyes again just as she reached the ring's edge, coming to a stop
>she'd drop both sets of weapons she was carrying at her sides, then reach back and frantically undo the top half of her armour, tossing it on the dirt below
>now left with just a beat-up dusty rag to cover her top half, she started to do the same with the lower half of her armour, completely ignoring Benedict for the time being

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836399

File: 1412272862413.png (365.34 KB, 598x475, Until Now.png)

>Approaching the fallen weapons as Horde Smasher focused on her armour, he felt glad to have the twin daggers back. Picking them up, he then turned to his opponent at the edge of the ring, still frantically pulled away her armour in case any of it could turn the same as the back piece.
>It was enough time to get a shot at knocking her out of the ring. Thankfully he knew the right enchantments to use to move someone of her bulk, and they'd been incredibly useful all throughout the fight.

It's not about the strength you've got, it's how you use it.

>The twin daggers begun to once again surround themselves with a magical aura and he briefly spun to build up his own momentum before bringing the twin daggers against Horde Smasher's back-

Enchantment - Force!

>Both of which would explode with great force in the direction of the ring wall.

Roll 1d1000 = 521
>Evens for hit
Roll 1d1000 = 649
>Evens for Ring-out

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836400

>having succesfully discarded her scorching-hot armour, the Orc known as Horde Smasher now stood with just her plain clothes at the edge of the ring
>now she was in pain and was in her sleeping attire, for everyone to see
>to say that she was a bit upset at this point would be a grave understatement
>thankfully for her, she heard Benedict let out another snarky quip from behind her, which was enough incentive she needed to spin around and grab his wrists before the daggers can connect with her
>her eyes would open again, this time working enough for her to be able to glare vicious right into Benedict's eyes, before suddenly pulling him aside so that they were both away from the edge of the ring

I'll keep that in mind!

>she'd then swing her head forward with a shout, trying to headbutt the Vescarian

>odds Roll 1d1000 = 760
>if successful, she then lifts a foot and thrusts it at his chest, trying to kick him away
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 53

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836409

File: 1412275936828.png (208.62 KB, 513x435, 2 Charging energy!.png)

>It seemed he'd taken it a step too far in irritating her. There was a point where it became less of a disadvantage and more of a benefit to be that angry, and when she gripped his wrists like that it was clear they were in the latter half.
>Gripped like that, he almost felt like he was in the worst possible position, and he grimaced at his own fate, a glint of fear in his eyes as her head rears back.

>Perhaps he'd been a little too jovial this fight. He'd treated it solely as a competition - she seemed to be treating it like a bloody duel and a test of strength. Maybe it was time he proved his.

>Though his body was weak, his strength lied in a different area, and it was through that he wanted to show a display of force.

>Managing to sidestep the headbutt, he found himself directly next to her side as he was unable to escape the grip of her hands, but it was where he wanted to be for this particular spell.

Apologies if you're angered by my lack of direct confrontation, I'll remedy that now!

>Unlike his previous spells, he didn't charge up an amount in his hands as that wouldn't work here. Instead, a blue glow surrounded him completely, not only encompassing his armoured plates but the clothing he wore beneath.

Full Enchantment...!

Roll 1d1000 = 580
>Odds, Horde Smasher can easily interrupt his channeling.


>Much like the force blasts that had been released from individual objects before, a wave of force blew out, but this time it was in all directions. It shook the ground and pushed Horde Smasher back in a display of raw power rather than skipping around her like before. It was a last resort move, but at least he had it.

Roll 1d1000 = 437
>Evens, she's blasted in the direction of the ring's edge for a ring-out.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836422

>the Orc would hang onto Benedict's wrists to keep him in place, even as he struggled to free himself from her grip
>once he maneuvered himself around to her side, she'd turn around to face him again, rearing her head back and getting ready to try and hit him again
>she'd stop partway, however, when she saw the magical energy gathering around Benedict's body, her vision recovering enough to know something was definitely going wrong
>she'd quickly let go of the Vescarian's wrists and jump aside, only to get caught in the blast anyway when it erupted from all around him


>she'd skid along the concrete by just her feet, but would manage to stop a few paces away, digging her heels into the ring to halt her progress

>she'd shake her head again, her body tingling from the outpouring of magic, but it would not affect her for very long
>she sprung back into action, lunging for the Vescarian, swinging her arm at the side of his head
>odds, LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOO Roll 1d1000 = 450

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836427

File: 1412279279542.gif (893.78 KB, 300x225, tumblr_n0aoeghxfI1tqy6tyo1_400…)

>Thankfully for Benedict, the gap between them was just enough time to get a grip back on the situation. She was disarmed and disarmoured, but for someone like her who had a vice-like grip and strong arms that far from meant she wasn't still a threat.
>He couldn't keep using so many different enchantments, especially after using something like Rupture. If there was a point where he simply needed to fight, this was it.

>Gritting his teeth, he nimbly ducked under the blow. Both daggers relinquished their force enchantments and returned to simply being charged with energy - he didn't want to push her away now, he had to fight back or she'd take advantage again as she had before.

>As he ducked, he span around and brought both daggers forward in a passing motion to cleave two cuts into her leg, hoping to make her less mobile.

Roll 1d1000 = 396

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836453

>with her vision starting to come back to her, the Orc was at least able to tell where Benedict was, turning her head to see that he was crouching at her side
>she then let out another snarl as he cut into her calf, causing her to drop to one knee
>again with the legs - Horde Smasher was absolutely infuriated at this point
>this coward couldn't even fight face to face, he had to keep shifting around and hitting spots she couldn't easily reach to defend herself, and he just wouldn't stay still
>with another snarl, she swungs her arm behind her, hoping to drive her elbow into Benedict's nose
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 864
>if successful, she'd reach back behind her and grab his head, placing his jaw on her shoulder before dropping down to her rear
>odds, STUNNER STUNNER STUNNER Roll 1d1000 = 251

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836458

File: 1412284274244.jpg (50.81 KB, 640x480, tumblr_n9guv73EUU1sevxyro7_128…)

>She was naturally tenacious. Swing after swing, spell after spell, and she just kept on coming. There really wasn't any more room for trying different tactics or flashy magic, this had to go the old fashioned way.
>As she swung the elbow back towards him, he was thankful that she had previously dropped to one knee - it gave him just the right timing to dodge behind her, flicking his daggers in his wrists as he prepared for the next assault.

>First, he rushed by her other leg with a dagger, attempting to bring her down on the other side too.

Roll 1d1000 = 9

>If successful, he follows through with a brief flourish and, having made his way around to her front again, attempts to utilise the time given by the newly inflicted wounds to press the dagger close to her neck, though not touching it at all.

Roll 1d1000 = 903

>If both are successful, he looks her dead in those furious eyes with a gaze far less jovial than the one he began the battle with, catching his breath momentarily before making a statement.

Do you yield?

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836459

>this time the Orc was ready for Benedict's tactic, having already seen it coming after his last attack
>she was able to yank her other leg away before he could hit it, then reach out to grab his wrist before he could move back
>odds Roll 1d1000 = 449
>if successful, she'd pull back on his arm to drag him closer, then wrap both arms around his neck and arm, trapping him in a half-nelson chokehold
>roll to escape

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836461

File: 1412285767468.png (112.62 KB, 367x327, I didn't mean it like that.png)

>The detriments of staying too close to her suddenly shone in full. From a simple tug of his arm, he quickly found himself wrapped up in her grasp. It wasn't something he'd be able to tough his way out of - he wasn't that sort of fighter, and as he was pinned and feeling himself get slowly crushed beneath his plating, he realised he'd have to do whatever he could to get out of this position and fast.

>So, with the only free hand he had available, he tried to drive a dagger into one of the arms holding him to loosen the grip enough for his rough escape.

Roll 1d1000 = 98
>If evens, cont
>If odds, failure.

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836463

File: 1412286146698.png (213.8 KB, 503x446, Don't make me get back up.png)

>The loose grip was just what he needed to slip himself free, though only just, from the hold. What he didn't do, however, was immediately back away. Instead he held his grip on the dagger that was stuck in her arm - this was the kind of moment to save his magic for, and so he decided to go for it.

Roll 1d1000 = 978
>Odds, and he isn't able to focus enough, the rough grip on his neck from the hold having caused his senses to falter and leaving him still very close to the Orc.


Enchantment - Lightning!
>Applying a sheathe of electrical energy to the blade he had stabbed her with, it would deliver a nasty series of shocks that only seemed to continue the longer the blade was in her arm - like the other base elemental enchantments, this one was long-lasting.

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836471

>the Orc would snarl in pain again as the dagger sunk into her arm, but she'd hang onto Benedict regardless, refusing to give in to the pain
>she finally got a hold of him, now she just needed to-
>she would let out a louder, longer roar as lightning shot through her body, Benedict having managed to pry away from her grasp to further damage her
>she'd reel back and fall on the concrete, her whole body still shaking from the electricity, still screaming in agony as she reached wildly for the dagger in her arm
>she quickly yanked it back out and dropped it at her side, the current stopping but her body now numb and tired


>however, she was already starting to stir yet again, slowly rolling over onto her arms and knees, groaning sorely as she was preparing to retaliate once more

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836475

File: 1412288972235.png (192.82 KB, 411x338, To Battle!.png)

>With all the spells he'd cast this fight, his mana reserves were falling dangerously low. It fatigued him to feel so empty, and her tenacity had worn down his stamina over the course of the fight.
>He had to try and gain some kind of definite foothold, because even as he retrieved the dagger she dropped she was once again preparing to get up. With heavy breaths, he paced over to her and lifted one of his boots.

Roll 1d1000 = 996
>Odds, the time taken retrieving the dagger was enough to let her prepare her retaliation, even with her numb body.


Enchantment.... Earth.
>It felt draining to cast any enchantments now, and his speech was starting to show it. Even so, the boot above her became covered in thick stone, and the weight caused it to drop on her chest, pushing her back onto the ground and pinning her there.

>Taking a moment to compose himself, he directed his gaze towards her eyes, which he met with a serious look in his own.

Horde Smasher of Valorcall... do you yield?

Horde Smasher!pinkie78Os 836479

>the Orc let out a loud shout as the heavy boot crashed into her back, effectively pinning her to the concrete ring
>she tried to push against it, pushing her hands against the concrete, but having no luck budging at all
>she'd hit her fists against the concrete again and again, the referee approaching them after Benedict's question, her teeth gritting again in anger
>she'd keep smashing her fists against the ring, snarling and roaring as her frustration built and built to its breaking point


>she was meant to be the one to defeat the Dragonborn, and now because of some stupid technicality and cheating, this scrawny Vescarian was beating her!

>this wasn't right! None of this was right! She was better than him, and everyone else in this tournament!

>her screaming and growling would soon cease, her forehead smacking against the concrete with a groan


Damn you, Vescarian...

>taking that as all the incentive he needed, the referee would raise his hand up again

The winner of this match is Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth of Vescaria!

Benedict Affleck Forsworth Fitchley the Fifth!pR.BaFF/uk 836483

File: 1412291387295.jpg (114.52 KB, 500x602, tumblr_mh99amdGOs1rbcwk4o1_500…)

>As the crowd roared in cheer, likely due to the upset of the rather scrawny mage managing to bring down the tenacious Valorian Orc, Benedict himself gave a sigh of relief at the referee's words. Honestly, he half expected her to grab his leg at that point and break it or something, those moments were particularly tense. She never went down without a fight. Even at the end, Horde Smasher only stopped because exhaustion finally took root.
>Releasing the enchantment on his boots, he stepped back as he caught himself, standing with a smile.

Well fought, Valorian.

>With those simple yet meaningful words, he turned from the scene, giving a brief wave and a bright smile to the audience that watched on yet lacking the energy to bring out the personality he displayed at the start of the fight. It had worn on him, and if nothing else it had proven you needed to do a lot to take down an Orc from Valorcall.

>Even so, he left the Arena with a victory under his belt for a country that believed he could do it.

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836490

File: 1412294108997.png (615.46 KB, 869x490, Goddamnit.png)

>Stalking onto the arena with grand purpose was


>And she was here to win. Her pristine white uniform seemed to gleam in the light, the three stars on the front standing proudly. Honnouji Academy was here on this world's stage now, and she'd give them a good performance, for Sanageyama-senpai and Lady Satsuki's sake, she'd definitely win.

>She glares over at her opponent, not out of any sense of dislike, mostly due to a very sharp face and a glare that had lasted her since birth.

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836491

File: 1412294521918.jpg (39.98 KB, 229x227, ss+(2014-10-02+at+04.48.44).jp…)

>waiting for her in the arena, was a man far older than her. Short, but at the same time, well built. Puffing on a cigar, the Kamerian greeted her with a grin.

You're a bit young to be fighting a old man like me, aren't you?

>contrasting with Houki's stern serious look, the man looked to be glad just to be there.

Don't mean I won't go easy on you, eh heh heh~ Name's Jurgen, by the way.

Referee!pinkie78Os 836496

>the referee would be waiting for the both of them, but oddly enough he would be wearing a completely different outfit than before
>instead of the yellow-and-red uniform, it was a simple suit and tie, looking like a businessman or a news reporter, wearing a grey wig over his brown hair

Alright you ugly slobs, let's get this done!

>and not only that, he was speaking in a completely different voice, now sounding angry and gruff, as well as losing his English accent from the last round

>he'd raise his hand and gesture to Houki

In this corner, representing the "country" of Honnouji, we have Houki Shinonono!

>he'd do a double-take at her, then give a snide sneer

Got enough "nos" in that name?

>he'd then turn and gesture to Jurgen

And in this corner, representing the country of Kameria, we have Jurgen Garver!

>he didn't seem to have anything to say about him, instead just raising his hand up in the air


Get going already!

Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Houki goes first
>odds, Jurgen does

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836497

File: 1412296567248.jpg (160.73 KB, 476x578, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.29.44).jp…)

I'll accept being called a slob, but ugly? Come on now...

>with that, he went after his opponent. Formerly part of the Kamerian military, he had the skills and know hows of combat. However, unlike the other Kamerians, he choose not to rely on weapons or tricks.

But enough talk~

>he grabbed at Shinonono's arm, evens Roll 1d1000 = 21

>if successful, he tosses her over his shoulder and slams her to the ground

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 417

>rather, he choose to rely on pure strength, and his knowledge of wrestling.

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836505

File: 1412297288022.png (463.4 KB, 871x490, Whatareyoustaringatpunk.png)

>Houki glares back at the referee but made no further comment, she was here to win, not make petty disputes.
>The man seemed to charge at her, but she inhaled deeply.
...Here I come.

>She closes her eyes as the three stars on her chest seemed to glow, before there was a bright flash of green light.

>A dark green arm reaches out from behind the light, followed by a visored head. A gigantic hulking seemingly robotic suit leaps out from behind the cover, the visor opening and the gleam of Houki's eyes visible behind it. It stands there, hulking and stalwart as Houki's voice echoes out from within the suit


>A remnant of the past that she was...borrowing for the moment, but if she did well, she may be capable of keeping it...This was


>Just when he gets within range to attack her, the Blade Regalia in front of the man seemed to vanish into mid air as it shifts away to the side, clearly much faster than it looked.

Where are you aiming!?
>A hand extends forward and inclines slightly downwards as a shinai extends from behind the gauntlet, hoping to smack the close combat specialist squarely in the head
>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 412

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836507

File: 1412297612701.jpg (208.08 KB, 470x640, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.21.50).jp…)


>the man took the attack to the head, but didn't falter.

Now ain't this a surprise...

>he knew a bit about the clothes these people possessed, but didn't expect them to have this much capability.

>He was a man facing off again a giant suit of armor with only some light armor and reinforced gloves to defend himself, yet he showed no sigh of fear, he looked more like he was having a blast.

>he threw a punch at the suit of armor, aiming for their hip.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 360

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836511

File: 1412298696706.png (583.1 KB, 871x490, Posing.png)

>Houki takes the hit to her hip and grits her teeth behind the visor. Sure it was bulky and could take a lot more punishment than SHE could, but it was still gonna hurt a bit. Houki takes a step back, a shinai extending from behind the gauntlet of her other arm.

>She takes another two lumbering steps towards her opponent and swings the other shinai straight towards Jurgen's gut

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 432

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836514

File: 1412299424255.jpg (160.73 KB, 476x578, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.29.44).jp…)

>another hit. The short man really could take a hit. Stumbling back for a second, taking a moment to catch his breath, he was back up.

That's all you got? My daughter punches harder than that!

>he went in for a shoulder tackle

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 213

>if successful, he follows up with a punch to her gut.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 320

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836515

File: 1412299852781.png (367 KB, 645x489, Lookingover.png)

>As the man comes charging towards her, Houki roots herself. Once the tackle comes close enough to her, once again, the hulking suit of armour seems to fade from sight. Houki's voice echoes from around the arena, not seeming to come from any place in particular.
Then maybe I should hit harder!
>And to the right of him, she re-appears, swinging her right shinai down onto his wrist with alarming speed.
>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 134

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836516

File: 1412300238110.jpg (121.03 KB, 368x547, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.22.27).jp…)


>another hit. She was far faster than him, being able to hit him more... But was he stronger than her and able to take more hits?

>with the strike to his wrist, he went for a punch with his other hand, aiming at the robot's solar plexus

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 679

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836518

File: 1412301035099.png (388.01 KB, 616x490, Clash.png)

>Another punch, the Blade Regalia slides back out of the way, letting the fist sail harmlessly through the air. The shinai on her gauntlets retract back into the arms as she reaches back into the holsters on her shoulders.and pulls out a group of ten shinai, one slotted into a whole at the end of the fingertips on the Blade Regalia.

>She lifts her hands up, both now looking more like solid chunks of shinai than a sword, and she brings one arm back, before sending it flying forward, aimed at the fist-fighter's face.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 39

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836519

File: 1412301234500.jpg (84.99 KB, 417x357, ss+(2014-10-02+at+04.57.22).jp…)

>this time, the man ducked out of the way


>going up from his crouching position, he quickly jumped up, aiming a uppercut at his opponent's chin.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 13

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836521

File: 1412301699010.png (476.44 KB, 871x490, Bigassshoulderpads.png)

>The uppercut comes roaring towards her, but Houki sees it, she leans back slightly, letting it barely graze past her helmet's chin, despite the near hit, Houki was ready to counter.

>She draws her other arm backward, like she was winding up for a punch, before she lets it fly forward, the concentrated group of shinai barrelling towards the man's gut

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 167

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836522

File: 1412302273929.jpg (133.02 KB, 479x433, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.41.31).jp…)

>another dodge... With his adrenaline pumping, he could focus on the fight in its entirety.

Now I'm getting serious!

>Jurgen went for a grab at the armor's ankle.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 561

>if successful, he manages to lift her up by her foot and topple her to the ground

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 810

>if all hit, he does a leaping elbow drop onto her chest

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 668

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836523

File: 1412302628846.png (555.85 KB, 871x490, Shinaifire.png)

>As the man goes for the ankle grab, Houki leaps into the air, soaring much higher than you'd expect something of that size to be capable of jumping. As it hangs in the air for a brief second, the holsters on it's back, the ones that previously housed the other shinai, aim downwards. Within a few seconds, they start firing out a barrage of shinai, which hurtle towards the arena, and Jurgen, with alarming speed.
>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 270

>If hit, how many hit Roll 1d10 = 1

>While the shinai continue hurtling towards Jurgen, Houki lands back on the ground and leaps towards him, swinging another shinai based punch at his throat.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 670

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836524

File: 1412302967532.jpg (65.58 KB, 382x285, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.41.17).jp…)

>only one of the shinai manages to hit, the rest miss, only for the second attack hit hit, knocking him down.

>quickly, getting back on his feet, he aimed another punch at the armor's ribs

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 451

>regardless, he follows up with a gut punch

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 6

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836525

File: 1412303496397.png (528.34 KB, 866x489, Preparetogetdrilled.png)

>The punch at her ribs is blocked, Houki's right arm moving with abnormal speed to take the punch on the shinai, where it would do the least amount of damage. Unfortunately, in doing so, she didn't leave enough time to react against the second punch. It slams into the gut of the armour and Houki staggers back. She moves to nurse the wound with her hand, but quickly stops herself as she remembers that they both aren't quite usable as hands at the moment.

>Houki moves back into close quarters once more, the shinai on her right arm suddenly whirring into life and revolving around at incredible speeds, practically a drill. She cranks the arm back and brings it flying towards the older man's head.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 926

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836527

File: 1412303816932.jpg (133.02 KB, 479x433, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.41.31).jp…)

>he takes the hit yet again

>Roll 1d1000 = 899

>evens, he's taken repeated blows from a larger opponent, mostly to the head. The large man finally falls, KO'd
>odds, he has one or two hits left in him

>if odds, he goes in for a kick to his opponent's gut.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 353

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836528

File: 1412304322234.png (367 KB, 645x489, Lookingover.png)

>Houki watches the man take the hit and seemingly...not care about it? She was pretty surprised at this point, for somebody with no access to life fibers at all, he was surprisingly tenacious. Houki smiled behind the visor. Maybe this was what the Captain said about finding joy in a strong opponent? Or maybe she was just pleased at what this uniform could do for her...

>Either way, she still had a fight to finish, and finish it she would. As he went in for another kick, Houki blocks it with another well placed shinai, which she then used to push back, just enough to disorientate him and swing her other arm around to strike at his gut

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 222

!MEOWKdWFcQ 836529

File: 1412304477611.jpg (208.08 KB, 470x640, ss+(2014-10-02+at+05.21.50).jp…)

>but, a man can only take so much, and he is outmatched with his lack of life fibers.

>the attack sends him straight out of the arena, ringed out.

>the victor was for Honnouji

Referee!pinkie78Os 836530

>and with Jurgen having been smashed right out of the ring, the referee raises his hand up with a grunt

And the winner is Houki Shinonono of Honnouji!

!Ren/VL7f/Q 836531

File: 1412304882678.png (501.88 KB, 558x490, Hmmm.png)

>The uniform vanishes in a flash of dark green light, and Houki stands proudly in the middle of the arena, a smile on her face. She did it, she showed the world the might of Honnouji, that they were NOT somebody to be messed with. Lady Satsuki would be pleased.

>She looks over to where the man was laying. There was a pause for a few seconds...Before she bowed her head to him as a sign of respect. And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the arena, proud of her strong start for Honnouji.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836532

File: 1412305956803.jpg (611.74 KB, 1043x1468, Captain-america.jpg)

>The crowd is hushed. Eager with anticipation for the next fight.

>Stepping from his side of the arena, a pair of red boots would walk along the path leading to the ring. Some would laugh at the rest of his outfit. Some would awe in admiration. Others would look quizical as his appearance would raise questions to the true pourpose of this event. For the man who now stood in the fighting area would be none other then the man who saved the world not one year ago. The Super Soldier, Captain America now stands ready to once again take center stage.

>He stands firm. His muscles visible through the armor that made up his costume. He can feel the tension some would feel from him being there. For if this really was simply for the sake of sport then why invite him?

People of Rigel Prima!

>He shouts to the audience. His voice booming enough to reach them without the use of a microphone. He raises his head to address them more clearly.

I assure you there is no threat to your lives here this day. I was asked by the people of Victin to represent their great country. Though I may be champion of Mortal Kombat I am only here as a man to lift the spirits of this world, and remind us that even though, different we may be, the spirit in us all can accomplish anything if we work together.

King William Rebaine IV !MrCarnage2 836533

File: 1412306495130.png (1.3 MB, 1892x1064, vlc 2013-09-09 00-13-54-68.png)

>Sitting high up on the balustrades of the arena wall in a well furnished and decorated box seat is the royal family currently ruling Mares, first amongst witch was the King himself whose piercing blue eyes surveyed the goings on of the tournament quite disdainfully.

Is the event to your liking my Lord?

>Asked a smartly dressed man whose function could only be that of the King's own personal servant.

Well to be honest it is quite a spectacle to watch brutes bang each other up with primitive technology but I expected a display of actual martial might and tactics not... some bar room brawl.


My apologies Lord, I will see to it that...

>Raising his hand, the king of Mares brought the figure to a dead stop.

You will do nothing.

If my soldiers cannot win a fight against barbarians armed with clubs and shields then they ought not to be in the position they are now.

Let this be a test then...

>Watching the brightly colored man enter the arena armed with a shield, William Rebaine nodded his head contently.

This first fight ought to be interesting.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836534

File: 1412306793735.jpg (436.92 KB, 1920x1080, 165132.jpg)

>Walking onto the stage then was a tall figure completely covered in post-modern military fatigues and apparel whose glasses seemed to glow with a bright blue light and whose main weapon appared to be a large rifle strapped to the figure's back which glowed with its own bright blue light.

>After having entered the ring, the man turned towards the box seat of Mares and crossed his arms across his chest and bowed deeply, profession to official Maresian salute for his king before turning to his enemy and un-slinging his rifle, carrying it at ease in the crook of his arm with his trigger finger place well away from the trigger itself.

Referee!pinkie78Os 836536

>naturally, the native Victin crowd goes nuts for the Captain, cheering and applauding loudly when he finished his impromptu speech
>once the other fighter entered the ring, the referee would step forward
>once again, he was wearing a military uniform, but it was a dull washed-over grey instead of the bright yellow-and-red he wore before, as well as a dull grey hat
>more noticeably, however, was the tiny black mustache he wore on his lip, which would certainly be familiar to the Captain

Now zhen! Ve vill commence this farce of a fight!

>the terrible German accent wouldn't exactly sit well with him either

>he'd gesture over to the Captain, speaking in an exaggerated disgusted tone

Here, representing zhe country of Victin, Captain America!

>he would give a short gagging sound, then gesture to Mr. Rockwell

And here, representing zhe country of Mares, Captain Jeremy Rockvell!

>he'd raise his hand up high, making it look an awful lot like a familiar salute, the crowd booing viciously as he did



>he'd be cut off when another man ran in from behind and smacked him over the head with a rubbet mallet, the cosplayer falling down instantly
>the second man, dressed in a typical referee uniform, would lift his hand and finish the statement


Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Mr. Rogers goes first
>odds, Mr. Rockwell does

Mr Rogers 836537

File: 1412307797578.jpg (20.46 KB, 200x274, FredRogers4.jpg)

It's real nice yall invited me to this fightin tournament. I just wish we could settle our differences in a less violent way.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836538

>The Captain would be glancing over his opponent. The obvious military garb spoke for itself. The man would have had to gone through the rigurous military training to earn it. This was not an opponent to take lightly. Especially since he was chosen above all his comrades to fight in this tournament.

>In response to the man equipping his rifle, Cap would respond in kind. Reaching to his back he would take out his shield and hold it firm in his right hand. It would be unwise to go toward this man without it so throwing was not an option for now.

>Then there was the rifle itself. Given the nature of the country he was from it was safe to assume it didn't fire simple bullets. Of course his shield had yet to hold back any force this world had to offer.

>Holding his shield forward he charges onward toward the opponent. Once reaching a safe distance he crouches down and slides one leg forward to knock the opponent off his feet.

Roll 1d1000 = 441 Evens

>If successful, he would push his shield forward to lock Jeremy on to it as he would throw him behind him where he would land on his back with a thud.

Roll 1d1000 = 164 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836540

File: 1412309202395.jpg (1.49 MB, 1920x1080, ghost-recon-future-soldier-232…)

>The moment the fight began, Captain America sprang into action, his movements both gracious and precise, clearly the fruit of labor to transform this man into something so much more than human.

>Yet despite the Captain's fluid movements, the Maresian soldier saw right through the incoming attack and, through shear reflex honed on countless Maresian battlefields, Jeremy Rockwell crouched and rolled to Captain America's left, quickly kneeling thereafter and almost instantaneously taking up a crouched firing position.

>From his right eyelense, the Maresian could see countless combat diagnosis being ran for him: the amount of energy left in his Rifle, his heart rate, the enemy's average position and, most important, it allowed him to view the Captain's soul.

. . .

>From his kneeling opposite of the Captain's shield, Rockwell took aim with his weapon and aimed not for the Captain's head but somewhere in his lower mid-riff area.

>Roll 1d1000 = 457
>Odds = The Captain reacts quickly enough to get out of the Bolts way.

>Evens = The Captain's very soul would find itself lanced through and through by a beam of neon red energy, the aftermath of which he could see going through his arm straight into his torso and impacting something deep within himself that he had perhaps never felt hurt in his life.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836541

>The speed at which the enemy had dodged the attack was extraordinary. There was definitely something special about this foe. Still, Steve had quick reflexes of his own. Stopping his feet on the ground he would kick himself away and roll out of the beams path.


>He states as he stops his roll and gets ready for a counter attack. What exactly was that attack? He had never seen anything quite like it before. It couldn't have been a mere lazer, such tactics were outlawed in this tournament. No there had to be something else behind this. He had to be extra careful not to get hit.

>Still in a crouching position, Cap would lunge himself at Jeremy. His left hand balled into a fist as he took a swing at the enemy's jaw line.

Roll 1d1000 = 146 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836542

File: 1412310662518.jpg (573.35 KB, 1280x720, 009.jpg)

>Failing to react in time to dodge the Captain's continued attack, Rockwell would find himself utterly trounced by the superhuman's fist as it struck straight into his jaw the force of which sent him rolling half-way across the concrete arena whilst an aura of bright purple energy flared around the soldier's rolling form.


>Taking up his posture once more, Rockwell would find his right eye lens flashing a bright warning sign as a bright purple aura quickly vanished into nothingness whilst the lens ran its programmed diagnosis of the battlefield.

>Void Shield: 50%
>[tt]R Power: 80%

>Recommend Evasi...

>But the Soldier muted the program for now with a mere touch of his finger to his temple.

>There was no doubt that without the shield there, that blow would have fractured the man's jaw in a dozen places at least and that the shield would handle only one more such blow at least.

>Still, there was no time to waste or hesitate.

>Training had made him hard and his mind cold. Surveying his enemy from his new position, Rockwell once again drew up his rifle with lightning speed and took a bead straight on the Captain's bright soul this time unloading two bolts of Neon Red energy from the muzzle of his weapon.


>Both lances of light flying straight through the air in the general direction of the Captain's center mass.

>Roll 1d1000 = 882

>Odds = Once again, the Captain reacts with such speed that he deflects or evades both bolts of energy before they can find their mark.

>Evens = Captain America's very soul with sing with agony as both bolts of bright light would find their mark deep in the Superhero's being.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836543

>Alright, first blow. This was off to a good start. He just had to keep up this momentum long enough to-


>The bolts went through the Captain. They left no marks on his armor, only passing straight through and hitting them somewhere he couldn't quite describe.

NNgghh! Gghhnnn...

>What was this? He couldn't feel anything inside him being ruptured or injured. No cracked bones, he still had air in his lungs. What could possibly be hurting this way? It was as if the attack had come and hit him in a vulnerable spot he didn't even know he had.

>Still, he couldn't let this stop him. Noticeably injured he gets up to one knee and stares at the man before him.

That's an interesting weapon you got there. That must've taken you guys a while to develop.

>Using his crouched position he charges forward, his shield protecting the majority of his body as he rams it toward Jeremy. The full weight of his body going into the attack

Roll 1d1000 = 665 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836544

File: 1412313225150.jpg (304.27 KB, 1920x1200, ghost-recon-248389.jpg)

>As the enemy recoiled from the Wavelength Bolts shot through its being, Captain Rockwell felt his weapon grow considerably weaker from the continued use of its high powered ammunition. Normally a single bolt was enough to pop a man's soul like a bright balloon but the weapon's yield had been considerably weakened for the purposes of this tournament - the upside of which was that he could now draw out a full two extra bolts per ammo pack rather than the usual two or three.

>Still, despite the muted HUB, Rockwell could very well feel the weapon in his hands die by inches every time he pulled on the trigger. Such things were usual for long time Maresian soldiers but it was rare for individuals to continue operating successfully once such syndromes had developed. Rather, Rockwell had become even more efficient, using his new ability to imperceptively feel how many more bolts remained in his magazine and concentrate on the battlef...


>It had taken all of his skill and instincts to dodge the blow, had he been even a fraction or an instant slower, there was no doubt that Captain's America's shield would have slammed into the Maresian Commando with enough force to knock him clear out of the fight.

>Primitive though they may be, there was no doubt that the enemy's methods had the potential to be quite effective.

>Still, rolling back to a kneeling position, the Captain took up his weapon whose life he could feel nearing its end and fired one more bolt straight at the Enemy's now defenseless soul.

>Roll 1d1000 = 472

>Evens = The bolt of bright light energy lances through Captain America through and through, desalinizing the superman's soul even more and forcing the man to experience yet more indescribably agony.

>Odds = Failure at your discretion.

>Regardless, the weapon is now nearing the end of its power source Roll 1d2 = 1

>Evens = Rockwell is capable of drawing one more shot from this specific ammo pack.

>Odds = The weapon finally breathes its last as the soul contained within its energy pack fades away into nothing causing the weapon's lights to dim into complete darkness.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836545


>The bolt hit true to its mark. Once more Steve would feel the pain resurging through his body, more intense then before. Even with his armor and body tampered with years of battle, the attack made him feel as weak as he did before the super soldier serum. As if he was once more a small kid in Brooklyn getting beat by school yard bullies.


>He didn't know if he could take another hit from that weapon. However, even with his vision dazed from the assault, he could spot the weapon becoming depowered. This was his change to show off some projectile warfare of his own.

>With his left hand he grabs his shield by the edge. With great force he tosses it toward Jeremy. The defensive piece aimed at his chest area.

Roll 1d1000 = 346 Evens

Roll 1d1000 = 490 If hit, Less then two hundred, and evens, Jeremy is then disarmed.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836546

File: 1412315040865.jpg (1.63 MB, 1920x1080, ghost-recon-future-soldier-225…)

>With the weapon's faded power source surging through Rockwell's consciousness for the loss of life it represented, it took again all of Rockwell's conscious effort to even notice the high chunk of Vibranium being flung in his direction.

>Roll 1d1000 = 186

>Evens = Captain Rockwell manages to raise his rifle at just the last moment and deflect the shield away from its intended target, denting his weapon considerably but nonetheless allowing him to continue fighting unhindered.

>Odds = He raises his rifle too slowly and the shield SLAMS into his chest, knocking the soldier flat on his ass and propelling him quite a few yards towards the direction of the arena's edge.

>If odds, Roll 1d1000 = 463

>Evens = The Void shield absorbs all of the shield's impact and, though winded and tired, Rockwell is still unharmed.


>Odds = The impact of the shied is such that, despite the Void Shield's effort, it is unable to completely nullify the impact and leave the toughened soldier with two broken ribs.

>Regardless, the purple aura snaps with a loud BANG, signaling its total depletion.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836547

>The whiring of the shield flying through the air, combined with the loud clang of metal hitting metal, would muffle the sound of footsteps running toward Jeremy. For as soon as the shield was out of view, he would have the opprotunity to see Captain America charging toward him.

>Jumping into action once more, he swings his fist at the soldier's jaw once more. The attack would be weakened from the assault from the weapon, but still powerful none the less.

Roll 1d1000 = 80 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836548

File: 1412315892817.png (345.06 KB, 600x338, E3-2010-Tom-Clancys-Ghost-Reco…)

>Feeling immense relief that he'd been able to deflect the deadly attack aimed at his chest, Rockwell would find his relief short lived as the superhuman soldier would try to engage the soldier in CQC once more, a discipline which, Rockwell was utterly convinced he stood absolutely no chance in.

>And so as Captain America threw all of his strength behind the punch, Captain Rockwell would, in turn, throw all of his body weight into a dive away from the supersoldier's blow.

>Roll 1d1000 = 900

>Evens = With only the faintest of distance seperating his face from Captain America's fist, Jeremy Rockwell nonetheless manages to dive away from the blow and roll away to relative safety.

>Odds = Despite his most valiant efforts, Captain Jeremy Rockell is still inherently human and thus could not dodge a straight on blow from a superhuman such as Captain America.


>With the last of the Void Shield sizzling out of existence with a nasty BANG, Rockwell finds himself once against trounced quite a way through the air before he comes to a full stop laying full on his back. From there, the man would stand once more, gripping his rifle protectively knowing full well that there would be no shield to protect him from the next blow that came for him.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836552

File: 1412318097995.jpg (568.14 KB, 1920x1080, ghost-recon-future-soldier-298…)

>Taking that the dive's success had taken even Captain America by surprise, Jeremy Rockwell rolled his way to safety and took the time to throw out his used power cell and slam a fresh one into the spent rifle.

>From then on what unfolded was a moment of perfect martial practice as Captain Jeremy Rockwell took advantage of the few Milli-seconds from which Captain America was still recovering from the heavy punch he had tried to land on the soldier to take aim and shoot for the Captain's still unprotected soul.

>Roll 1d1000 = 347

>Evens = Despite the damage it had suffered earlier when blocking the shield swing, the rifle nonetheless remains functional.

>Odds = When the rifle deflected the shield blow some delicate interior components had been damaged and thus rendered the advanced piece of technology completely inert.

>If evens, a lance of bright golden light fires out of the rifle's muzzle heading straight for its intended target.

>Roll 1d1000 = 833

>Evens = The bolt of bright golden energy hits the bulls-eye and flashes through the superhuman through and through.

>Odds = Failure at your discretion.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836818

>The actions of the enemy soldier appeared to be in vain. His weapon had taken massive damage from his previous shield throw. Speaking of witch-

>The shield ricocheted off the walls underneath the view areas of the arena. During the actions taken by Steve and Jeremy it had bounced off the walls twice and flew back to Steve's hands as he knew it would. Keeping the momentum of the shields quick movements, the Captain would raise his arm to allow it to slip into the straps of the shield. With movements capable by a handful of men, he would spin his body around and move to slam it into Jeremy's chest. Not by the edge, but by the blunt face of the shield. The star of patriotism itself would ram into the futuristic commando.

Roll 1d1000 = 236 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836827

File: 1412387332304.jpg (261.32 KB, 1024x768, Ghost-Recon-Future-Soldier-Rev…)

>As the rifle failed to light up as it should, Captain America took immediate advantage of the situation and moved with lightning quick speed to try and slam into Rockwell bodily.

>As he did, the HUB of his right eye lens flared up to warn him of the impeding attack, cautioning him on the most probably course of action.

>Then, as the superhuman ran full speed towards him, Captain Jeremy Rockwell slung the large rifle he carried across his back and once again put all of his effort into dodging the blow by diving to Captain America's right rolling away to safety and once more preparing for the next blow.

>Roll 1d1000 = 592

>Evens = Rockwell successfully dodges the superhuman's tackle with only the merest of distances seperating himself from the Captain's heroic charge thus and grants himself a few more moments of safety.

>Odds = Despite his most valiant efforts, Rockwell is simply not strong or fast enough to dodge an all out tackle made by a man whose base engineering allowed for strength and speed far above that of normal man and thus finds himself rammed into by the Shield of Capitalism whose blow overloaded the Void Shield protecting the man with a nasty BANG thus mitigating the damage down to nothing but leaving him wide open for any future attacks but nonetheless sent him flying backwards across the arena until he lay close to the edge with his back lying flat against the concrete floor.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836834

>Another miraculous dodge. There was definitely something special about this one. Something almost familiar. This man's training must have been extraordinary in order to achieve such skill. Or perhaps there was more to this one then meets the eye.

>Never the less he has been disarmed, his weapon broken. Returning in kind he places his shield back onto glances at Jeremy.

You've put up a good fight, but something tells me that you're almost out of fuel. Sure you don't want to call it quits?

>He offers to end the fight without anymore harm coming to either of them. Both of them had taken a bit of damage, yet the edge seemed to be in Steve's favor. At least so it seemed.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836837

File: 1412388353239.jpg (119.37 KB, 1280x720, tom-clancy-ghost-recon-future-…)

>Breathing hard after having desperatly blocked, dodged and rolled his way out of harms way with only the very thinnest of margins granting him safety, Captain Jeremy Rockwell nonetheless was not out of the fight quite yet. If he surrendered now, he knew that his very actions would shame him and his family for decades to come and, worse yet, he would lose his ranking and any privileges he had earned through his distinguished actions on the field.

>No, if he was going to go down, he would go down fighting. Taking advantage of the small break, Rockwell crossed both his arms to open two small pouches on either side of his body. From the pouch on the right, he withdrew a small black pistol whose faint glowing green body indicated that, if anything else, its base nature was the same as that of the rifle he had been using before. From the one on the left, he took out a small grey rounded device whose function was not immeditaly apparent.

>Without hesitation, Rockwell then activated the small device causing his entire body and gear to rapidly turn invisible. Now armed and much harder to hit, the Maresian Captain felt confident that the fight itself was far from over.
This post was edited by its author on .

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836842

>A soldier to the end this one. The strong sense of duty was apparent enough, the confidence in equipment, even more so.

>Not being the first time Steve has fought an invisible opponent, he knew what to do. He wouldn't flail blindly and play into the enemy's hands. Instead he remained calm and listened carefully.

Roll 1d1000 = 396

>If Odds, Cap remains unaware to Jeremy's location. There was nothing obvious to give away his position.

>If Evens he can make out the faint sound of boots hitting concrete. Target spotted. Without hesitation he moves forward to deliver an uppercut to Jeremy's invisible chin.

Roll 1d1000 = 389 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836843

File: 1412390078328.jpg (122.98 KB, 600x320, future_soldier.jpg)

>Despite the fact that Captain America could make out Rockwell's outline, the fact that his vision was hindered obviously hindered the supersoldier's aim as his blow had been ever so slightly off its mark - a mistake which allowed Jeremy to step back just in time to move out the way.

>And as the soldier took two steps back towards the center of the arena, Rockwell raised his pistol and shot three quick bolts of bright pink light aimed directly at the Captain's Soul.

>Roll 1d1000 = 914

>Evens = The Wavelength Bolts hit their target dead-on and lance through the soldier through and through though the yield of the side-arm was notably less powerful than that of the Rifle, it still allowed the Soldier to hit the Captain where his many advancements could not protect him.

>Odds = Failure at the target's discretion.

>If evens, Roll 1d3 = 1 bolts hit their target.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836844


>The Captain shouted. The pain was not as disastrous as before, it still hurt quite a bit being hit in the place he would not quite describe. He looked around to once again find the source of the bolts. This time was quite a bit easier.

>Placing both his hands together he would lift them up and swing them where he believed Jeremy had fled to.

Roll 1d1000 = 423 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836845

File: 1412390825752.jpg (489.88 KB, 1920x1080, 11695-tom-clancys-ghost-recon-…)

>Again Captain America's aim was thrown ever so slightly off by Rockwell's active camouflage which allowed the immensely well-trained soldier to dodge the blow with a few quick step to the Captain's left.

>Having assumed a new position, Rockwell lifted his pistol to once again take aim and fire a duo of Wavelength Bolts aimed straight for the supersoldier's soul.

>Roll 1d1000 = 823

>Evens = Once again the superman's soul would be lanced through and through by a duo of bright beams of pink light.

>Odds= Failure at the target's discretion.

>If evens, Roll 1d2 = 2 bolts hit their mark.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836848

>A quick duck would suffice to dodge the incoming bolts. The act of firing them would give away the foe's position clearly, allowing Steve to extend his foot and sweep at Jeremy's feet.

Roll 1d1000 = 182 Evens.

>Upon contact, he would then stand up and raise his leg in the same motion. Before swinging it down onto where he would assume the enemy's chest would be.

Roll 1d1000 = 512 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836855

File: 1412392892401.jpg (44.54 KB, 900x506, on_the_move_and_in_the_dark__g…)

>That was it then, as the ground slipped from under his feet Rockwell saw the bright blue sky flood his vision with a bright blue man holding up most of the view. In all his years of battle, all his time training and fighting for the grand country of Mares, never had he seen a man's soul survive a single direct shot from a Wavelength Bolt. And yes, even though the engineers had reduced the firepower of the weapons to ensure they would no longer be deadly in the tournament, the very fact that this man had taken three, THREE bolts to the soul without falling was something of a miracle in of itself that he had never even heard of.

>Before he could even think of rolling away from this one, Rockwell felt the Captain's heavy foot slam down onto his chest and, with it, knew that his life was forfeit given that there was no way he would survive an all out blow to his center mass from a superhuman.



>Or at least, that is if his Void Shield still hadn't been standing at that point. Well if he were to go down, he would at the very least go down fighting in all the glory his family demanded and with the might of the Maresian creed!

>Gripping the leg that had stamped down hard on him, Captain Jeremy Rockwell abandoned his pistol on the cold concrete ground bellow him and gripped a cold, hard serrated blade from his pouch which he tried to plunge deep into Captain America's thigh.

>Roll 1d1000 = 164

>Evens = Captain Jeremy Rockwell manages the sink the combat blade deep into his enemy's flesh, the large wound gaping with blood that left the soldier's hand slick and wet.

>Odds = Failure at the Opponent's discretion.

>If even, and the blade does indeed bite deeply into the supersoldier's leg, Captain Jeremy Rockwell would then flip a switch on the weapon's hilt and turn on its oscilating wavelength pulse, making contact with the blade not only physically harmful but allowing it to increase the wavelength damage the man had suffered by quite a huge margin.

>Roll 1d1000 = 113

>Evens = Success!

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836857


>Steve screams as the blade sinks itself into this leg. Before the switch can be pulled however he manages to knock Jeremy's arm away with a light twack with his hand.

>The soldiers determination was begining to become questionable. Fighting to defend your country was one thing, but this was only to be a sporting event. Such tactics were unheard of.

>Now Steve wanted to end this now before it got even more out of hand. Swinging a fist down at the prone soldier he moves to deliver a blow to the mans jaw to hopefully knock his lights out.

Roll 1d1000 = 129 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836859

File: 1412395042157.jpg (152.32 KB, 749x1066, ghost_recon_future_soldier_off…)

>A sporting event though it may have been for most participants but for Mares and Captain Jeremy Rockwell, this was so much more than that. Though a friendly competition, he had been chosen out of thousands of soldiers to represent the might of a nation, to show the world that they were the best, the very best in all the world. Failure was not an option, no matter how tempting or easy it would be to give in when faced with the man's superhuman might, Captain Jeremy Rockwell could -NOT- give in!

>Yanking the serrated blade out of the wound when flicked away by the Captain, Rockwell flipped around the back of Captain America and, taking advantage of his own invisibility and the newly made wound the superman suffered, Rockwell kicked out into the man's fresh wound in the hopes of forcing the superman to his knees through shear excruciating pain.

>Roll 1d1000 = 42

>Evens = Captain America is forced to his knees.

>Odds = Failure at the Opponent's discretion.

>If evens and Captain America finds himself down on his knees, Captain Jeremy Rockwell would then disable his own invisibility whilst standing behind Captain America and put his bloodied knife up to Captain America's exposed throat.

>Uttering the first words of the entire fight, Rockwell would then say to the man...


>Roll 1d1000 = 44

>Evens = Success!

Referee!pinkie78Os 836860

>while the match up until this point had gone uninterrupted, that was only due to both sides being careful enough to not use too much force that the other side could be lethally injured
>when Captain Rockwell put the knife to Captain America's throat, however, that changed the situation considerably
>once the blood-stained blade got very close to Captain America's neck, the younger referee who replaced the crazed cosplayer from earlier leapt into action, running across the ring and shouting at the top of his lungs


>he skidded to a halt beside Rockwell and grabbed his wrist, attempting to pull it back from Captain America's throat

This is going too far, release him at once!

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836861

File: 1412396128456.jpg (241.71 KB, 1440x900, ghost-recon-future-soldier_971…)

>Breathing hard, his muscle aching and bruised and most of his gear completely overloaded or drained, Captain Jeremy Rockwell stepped away from the kneeling supersoldier at the referee's behest. Wiping the blade clean on the pants of his leg, the Maresian Commando would sheathe the blade on his front pouch.

>Still, there was a tension in him, the fight might not be over yet given that his opponent had yet to officially yield. He'd been ordered to keep things non-lethal but, for all the world's training, Rockwell couldn't figure out how in the hell he was supposed to accomplish something like that when using ineffective weapons against someone who could very well break his bones with a single blow.

>And so, pushed to the very limit of both his body and gear, Rockwell stood tall and proud... ready for whatever came next.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836863

>Steve would not make a sound as the blade came to his neck. By far this was not the first time he had been put into a situation like this, but by far this was one of the most sudden. He did not fear for his life, only for what happened next. He glares up at the soldier before him. He believed somewhere there was a miscomunication.

>Thankfully the refs at this tournament were much more reliable then the ones at the Mortal Kombat Tournament. As the knife was removed from his throat he would raise up to his feet and place a hand on his throat. Rubbing it as he could still feel the sensation of cold steel against it.

Referee!pinkie78Os 836864

>the referee would stay in Rockwell's face as he backed away, making absolutely sure that he understood what was at stake here

The rules clearly state that deadly force is not allowed in this tournament!

If you do anything like that again, you will be disqualified!

>he then turned to Captain America, walking closer to him, his eyes aimed at his neck to make sure it hadn't been cut at all

Are you alright?

Are you able to continue?

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836867

>Noting the Ref's concern, Steve would nod and acknowledge the question.

Yes, I appear to be uninjured for the most part... although.

>Stepping away from the Ref, Steve would walk over and approach Jeremy. Even with his gear covering his face he would see just how distraught he was at the situation he had found himself in.

You there, Jeremy was it? The way you fight seems much more personal then what's at stake here. What's bothering you?

>He approaches in a calm, friendly manner, his hands at his side. He tries his best to not let his natural authoritativeness get in the way.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836868

File: 1412398488382.jpg (171.53 KB, 1920x1080, ghost-recon-future-soldier-294…)

>Standing tall despite his heavy breathing and broken, innefective gear he wore, the proud Captain of the Maresian war engine would lower his muffler and spit on the ground, his dry mouth holding a look of disdain or disgust.

How the Frack is a man supposed to fight against a Thing like that without weapons or tactics!?

How is it FAIR to make a man go head to head with abominations that are closer to Neverborn than...!

>Catching himself then, the Captain's face would twist with rage as he shook his head and replaced the muffler to cover his expression entirely.

>If the tournament and the world took joy in orchestrating these perverse gladiator shows then so be it... even if victory was impossible, Jeremy Rockwell would at the very least go down fighting to the last.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836870

>Neverborn? Steve was unfamiliar with the term. However he was unfamiliar with most things in this strange world. Either way we have come to the real issue. This man had clearly felt he had been cheated out in this event. After all he had not been granted any supernatural abilities. Though from the way he moved even that was out of the question.

Thing? I believe you have me confused with a friend of mine. I am a man the same as you. Granted my abilities may be more then most but I bleed red like you all the same.

Weapons are clearly allowed, as are tactics. However I must ask, does you military not train you in hand to hand combat? Are you completely reliant on your weapons?

>He asks with genuine curiosity. He does not remember through the whole fight a single punch being thrown by Jeremy. He did seem to attack only with his weaponry.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836872

File: 1412399362423.jpg (254.12 KB, 1920x1080, 17124-tom-clancys-ghost-recon-…)

>Did his army not train him in hand to hand combat? Aye, they did but what good was it when the opponent could break your bones with a single swing of his fist and could move faster than any other man? How was this supposed to be a fair sporting event when it was nothing more than a freak show for lesser countries to show off their own degeneracy by having filthy Neverborn and other such mutants represent them in an international event.

. . .

>Answering only with silence, the proud, exhausted Maresian soldier would answer Captain America's question with a one-fingered salute.

>If the thing wanted to talk, it could do so with its bio-engineers. Right now they were here to fight and even if it was a lost cause, the proud man would do so until he no longer could.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836874

>Taking the salute without so much as a flinch, Steve would stand glaring at the man.

....I see.

>After a few seconds he turns and walks back toward the ref.

Well, it appears we were both mistaken. It seems he was not informed of the possibility of people such as myself being here. That and I was to understand I was fighting a man, not a child.

>He sais to the ref to clear him up on the situation.

Anyway, I feel we are ready to resume.

Referee!pinkie78Os 836876

>at Captain America's reassurance that they could continue, the referee takes a step back to give them room
>he'd then raise his hands up


Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Captain America attacks
>odds, Captain Rockwell does

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836877

>At this point in the fight, Steve had lost all motivation to let this continue any longer. So turning around quickly he would deliver a swift punch right to Jeremy's face.

Roll 1d1000 = 14 Evens

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836883

File: 1412401115554.jpg (1.81 MB, 1920x1080, ghost-recon-future-soldier-225…)

>The Captain had mocked his country by implying his training was flawed, flaunted the fact that he was inhuman to his face and even boasted of the fact that this tournament was a place a degeneracy where corruption and degeneration was rampant in most combatants. Even going so far as to call him a child right to his face...

>How then could a simple soldier such as he not feel cheated out of this fight? How then, was he expected to hold his temper in check when by all rights he had already won the fight?!

>Throwing all that his exhausted body could muster, Rockwell threw all of his body weight into a counter to deflect Captain America's punch with his left forearm and save himself from the creature's blow.

>Roll 1d1000 = 756

>Evens = Captain Jeremy Rockwell's counter is spot on despite the increasing amount of fatigue the man felt over the extended fight and manages to buy himself more time.

>Odds = The fatigue he felt proves too much and the fight ends right then and there as Captain America's fist slams into Jeremy's face and shatters the eye lenses he wore, embedding pieces of advanced polymers into his face and soaking his muffler with blood. Furthermore, the man's cheekbones would shatter beneath the super human's blow as his jaw, teeth would rattle uselessly in place even as his limp body was sent flying backwards to into the concrete arena several feet behind him.

Captain America!rjtGfDeadI 836887

>Giving the soldier no time to recover, Steve would reach over to grab the man by the collar of his shirt.

Roll 1d1000 = 938 Evens.

>If he manages to do so he would then proceed to lift him up and throw him to the ground.

>If odds, failure at your discretion.

Captain Jeremy Rockwell !MrCarnage2 836894

File: 1412402010514.jpg (237.77 KB, 1024x713, black_ops_2_illustration_by_ni…)

>Seeing the creature reach for his collar, Rockwell would once again trust in the very last fumes his body could muster, hoping beyond hope that he could escape its vile grasp before it was too late.

>Roll 1d1000 = 686

>Evens = Captain Rockwell once again defies the fates by escaping a deathly blow by only the faintest of distances, rolling himself to safety a few yards feet away.

>Odds = Captain America hoists Rockwell up into the airs and very easily slams him down into the concrete below much like a child might throw a doll thus knocking the air out of his lungs and displacing a few of his vertebrae in the process. But, nonetheless, Rockwell shows signs of getting back up to fight. Despite his deliriously painful back injury, it is not enough to break the man's will to fight on.

Deadpony the internetless 836907

>not seeing the point in beating up on someone who didn't know when to quit, Stee simply tosses his hands in the air and walks away from the arena.

King William Rebaine IV !MrCarnage2 837383

File: 1412479350132.png (1.39 MB, 1892x1064, vlc 2013-09-09 00-12-44-85.png)

>With the opponent simply getting up to leave the arena after quite a while of fighting and the referee declaring the victor by forfeit, Captain Jeremy Rockwell would drag himself out of the arena with all the composure of a man running on fumes.

>Meanwhile, high up in the box seats of Maresian royalty, the king of the country would look on down to the proceeding with a furrowed brow of repressed anger.

Lady Boromir... would you be so kind as to remind Captain Rockwell of the manner in which he is to conduct himself at this international affair?

>The man would say with a tone as cold as ice, the very words themselves resonating with dissatisfaction as a lady dressed quite splendidly in decorated robes would rise to the ordered effect of her king. As she did, King William Rebaine turned to the man seated at his right hand side.

What say you doctor, did the technology's stress test pass or not?


Doctor Theodore Grantvield !MrCarnage2 837384

File: 1412479965426.png (536.26 KB, 1280x720, Doctor Grantzvield.png)

>Adjusting his glasses on his nose, the man seated to the king's right hand side would cross his fingers below his chin, nodding his head slowly as he did.

A successful test as such things can go in an uncontrolled environment like this.

The Rifle acted as intended and worked well given the circumstances.

As for the pistol and the Stealth Field, there are still improvements to be made on those fronts - the very fact that the enemy could simply dodge most pistol bolts and see right through the field is all the proof we need that these items are not ready for mass distribution amongst the forces.

>Sighing and shaking his head then, the doctor would lean back in his seat.

I can't say much about this Rockwell's attitude either... if anything I'd say he single handedly was responsible for most of the errors incurred in the fight.

>His glasses flash an opaque white.

We'll just have to see if the other participants can prove more successful in their own tests.


File: 1412480067941.jpg (19.54 KB, 478x358, CCCissneiHelicopter2.jpg)

>The Shinra delegation had arrived without much aplomb. No speeches, or flashy entrances. In fact, it would seem that none of their recognizable leadership had seen fit to preside over their troops.

>The first real sign of their presence to the general public is the suited woman who enters the arena.

>Whether or not she feels any tension regarding the match is hard to see on her calm face, but on the inside she realizes how important this tournament is to her country, especially with the countries of Zenbonsakura and Mares in the Eastern half of Terrestria.

>This is as much for the security of her country and company as other jobs she'd taken, though the fact that so far all but Mares (predictably) seemed to be viewing it just as a sporting event, means she'll have to follow suit as well.

>...Now, the question is who is her opponent? With Guilt Edge, its hard to know what she'd be up against, but regardless of what it is, she has to defend Shinra's pride.

???!.ZzGrellBs 837387

File: 1412480228796.png (154.31 KB, 500x276, Nice Narcissism.png)


>To the Turk's modest entrance, lacking the glitz and glamor of earlier participants, the representative of Shinra's delegation would be met by nobody at first.

>Such silence would be viciously dashed away very shortly, however.


>A boisterous voice steeped in what would be an unfamiliar language for most, except perhaps the Kamerians observing in the audience, crows in an enthusiastic laugh.

Es ist meine Zeit, die Bühne zu nehmen!

>[It's my time to take the stage!]

>A man of perhaps twenty years old, or maybe even younger, hops into the arena wearing a dazzling grin and a patch signifying Guilt Edge sewn on a sash tied around his right arm. A shortsword in its scabbard is tied around his waist, gilded with fine gold and silver for decoration. The man's long rich red hair stands out sharply in the bright lights focused on the arena, looking both messy yet wonderfully luscious. A headband keeps the hair from falling in the man's face, his grin and mischievous blue eyes gleaming brightly on his face.

>He takes a deep breath and bellows to the crowd observing with boundless energy and confidence.

Rigel Prima! On behalf of mein country of Guilt Edge, I vill do mein absolute best to bring honor und glory to mein nation!

>He grins a little more widely, adding again in a snarkier tone and a wink.

Aber wir alle wissen, dass ich der Beste bin! Es ist schon kein Wettbewerb~!

>[But we all know that I am the best! It's not a competition~!]

>The redhead turns away from the crowd, facing the woman he's tasked to fight for this first seed. At first he seems slightly surprised, looking around to see if the woman was perhaps filling in for a real contender.

>But, after a moment, the man stands upright and grins at the woman. He gives her a two-fingered salute to the woman, then gestures to her grandly.

Mein gott! I haf found heaven on ze battlefield! Vot a shame ve are opponents, I vould louf to take you out on a night zat you vould nefer forget!

...But maybe after zis zat vould not be impossible, eh frauline?

>The man chortles and drops his arm to the side, then bows extravagantly to the suited woman, displaying grace and a surprising amount of balance.

>Then he stands upright once more, his eyebrows wiggling slightly in unmistakable sauciness.

If you are curious frauline, you can visit ze Guilt Edge locker rooms after zis, ja? Ask for Frech und I vill come like ze vind!

>His saucy grin widens, as if he had told a particularly funny joke, and he winks once more. Though he doesn't let it linger for long before he sighs loftily and looks for the referee.

Können wir anfangen? Es fühlt sich an, als ob ich den ganzen Tag gewartet, für diese!

>[Can we start? It feels as if I waited all day for this!]


File: 1412480883140.jpg (12.94 KB, 520x295, CCCissnei2.jpg)

>The woman lets out a sigh at this display. She supposes she should be thankful that her opponent is just an average looking human...but...

>"I should have let Reno take this match."

>In truth the man reminds her a bit too much of her colleague for her liking anyways. Are all redheads this way?

>With a flash she draws a large and rather odd looking throwing weapon from somewhere and shifts into a combat stance.

"...Can we just get this over with?"

>Annoying banter or not, its not like she'll have to deal with him after this match, so the important thing is keeping focused on the goal, no matter how much her opponent's personality annoys her.

Referee!pinkie78Os 837393

>the referee in question was apparently the slightly off-balance one that had appeared before, as he was again donning a costume
>this time it was a strange futuristic outfit, an odd combination of black leather and black metal, a long flowing cape extending down his back
>the final part of the ensemble was the black helmet that covered up his entire head and face, making it so that people likely wouldn't even know it was the same man
>that is, until he spoke, his voice crackling through a speaker on the mask
>for some odd reason, he seemed to be trying to make his voice deeper than it actually was, and kept huffing between lines, apparently having a hard time breathing

Let us begin.


>he would raise a hand and slowly gesture to Cissnei

Representing the country of Shin-Ra...


This is Cissnei.

>he'd then move his hand to regard the redheaded ball of energy

Representing the country of Guilt Edge...


This is Frech Versuch.

>he'd move his hand back and slowly raise it into the air



>he'd then swiftly move his hand back down


Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Cissnei goes first
>odds, Frech does

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837397

File: 1412481729823.png (237.84 KB, 472x273, Flourish for the Audience!.PNG)


>The man continues to smile, even when the woman sinks into a combative stance. He eyes her weapon with no small amount of curiosity, and even points at it.

Now zat is an interesting veapon frauline. I vish I vos so creatif, but alas! As you can see, I louf using mein sword.

>He wiggles his eyebrows and adds cheekily as his hand grips onto the handle.

It's mein strongest veapon after all~


>As the ref slowly introduces them both, the redhead stares patiently at his opponent, his weapon still sheathed and a good-natured smile pasted on his face.


>Once the man declares the fight's start, however...


>The redhead's blade gleams brightly under the arena lights, his movements impossibly quick for a normal human, suggesting he is either enhanced or not a human at all.

>But, one moment he stands a good distance from Cissnei, and the next, he bears upon her with the sword curving upwards at her torso.

>A blue aura surrounds the blade, preventing it from cutting too far into its opponent, a useful tweak to prevent any accidents in a non-fatal tournament.

>Roll 1d1000 = 124 odds, hit!


File: 1412482662102.jpg (138.11 KB, 476x785, BCFFVII-Cissnei.jpg)

>She has to wonder where they picked up the strange announcer though. For a tournament like this, where they claim not to have any ulterior motives, there's things about it that are rather strange.

>Her attention jolts back to the fight shortly after it starts, the man's speed catching her off guard for a moment.

>But just for a moment, and thats all she needs to leap back out of the way of the blade, twisting her torso and throwing her own weapon downwards to try and slash at the man's legs while she's still in midair.

>Roll 1d1000 = 995 Odds, hit. Anything that isn't double or trip evens and the blade returns back to her like a boomerang.


"...Seems I'll have to take you seriously after all."

>She doesn't want to admit it, but she'll need to if he's got anything more than just enhanced speed up his sleeves.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837415

File: 1412483500397.png (64.19 KB, 342x208, Trying my Patience Already.png)



>Frech finds his blade passes through air, the woman's impressive jump not only placing space between her and him, but also gaining a chance to throw her strange weapon at him.

>Though, notably at his planted leg.


>Frech winces, the spinny dervish of blades slashing his leg and making a decent gash, though had it been twisted even a quarter of an inch either direction, it's likely it would have severed his tendon.

>Blood oozes down from the torn skin, gently dripping onto the ground.

>His smile is forced now, to take the pain that came with the attack.

I sink I vill need to do ze same, frauline...!

>Damn, it hurt! She was far trickier than she looked!

>The moment the Turk lands from her jump, Frech once more attempts to close the gap.

>It seems, however, that hit had slowed the man to a less quick rate, no longer fast enough to blink from one space to the next with his speed.
>But even handicapped to an extent, he's still as fast as a fit human, which he banks on helping him in this fight.

>Frech doesn't let this slip us bother him too badly, swinging his sword this time for the Turk's dominant arm in a calculated strike.

>Roll 1d1000 = 739 odds, hit


File: 1412484701172.png (240.03 KB, 301x479, 301px-BCFF7_Turks_Shuriken_R+_…)

>Cissnei had hoped the cut to the man's leg would have slowed him down enough to put them on equal footing at least...

>But the next blow comes sooner than she'd expected, and its all she can do to try and at least weather the hit well.


>Roll 1d1000 = 175 Evens, the calculated strike to her arm hits harder than expected and her grip on her blade falters, leaving her unable to attack while she quickly attempts to retrieve it.

>Odds, She pulls away at the last minute, gritting her teeth and bearing through the pain of the cut, but at least keeping it from forcing her to drop her weapon. If so, she swings a kick at the man's side opposite his sword arm in an attempt to at least force him to pull back.

>Roll 1d1000 = 600 Odds, Hit.

>Regardless, she doesn't show signs of yielding. Despite her appearance she seems hardy, or perhaps just stubborn. Whatever it is, she seems like she isn't about to let one wound stop her, even with her opponent breathing down her neck.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837446

File: 1412485549980.png (198.59 KB, 404x296, Unfortunately the Laughs Stop …)


>Unfortunately for Cissnei, while the man's leg had damaged him enough to slow him to a more manageable speed when running, his dexterity proves to be unmarred. Blue eyes dart, catching the movement to his left, then steel with surprising coldness for a moment.



>The blade, wet from the thin cut delivered to Cissnei's arm, flashes once as he turns and forces it around right for the Turk's incoming leg.

>Roll 1d1000 = 481

>odds, max damage; the blade slicing into the Turk's upper thigh and quadriceps in a single well-timed slash.

>evens, min damage; the swing is telegraphed enough for Cissnei to avoid it with another fine cut for her troubles.


File: 1412486153442.jpg (248.12 KB, 438x577, tumblr_msekh9R0na1qgxaowo1_500…)


>The woman winces and stumbles backwards, the blade cutting deep enough to send her staggering back towards the ropes.

>She's in a bad spot...but she still might be able to turn this around...if she could just get some space.


>But between the man's speed and tactical strikes, she barely has time to catch her breath for now.

>"Maybe that would do it...if I can just find an opening..."

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837462

File: 1412486883927.png (412.61 KB, 589x329, Angel of Light_I Just Dropped …)


>Once Cissnei stumbles back onto the ropes of the arena, Frech takes a slow breath and stands fully upright, blood still oozing down the gash in his leg from her own posed attack earlier.

I must commend you frauline, you are a formidable opponent! Und you took such a strike vis impressif restraint!

>She didn't cry out that loudly for an attack like this; he's rather impressed by it too.

To sink you can take mein sword's punishment...! Truly, you are a fery strong voman und a credit to your nation!

>His smile morphs into a smirk, his grip tightening on his sword.

But zhen again, I am ze same to mine!

>He charges at her, swinging his sword low this time, for the Turk's other leg.

>Roll 1d1000 = 244 odds, hit!


File: 1412488076507.png (738.37 KB, 588x936, BCFF7_Shuriken_R+_L_Artniks2.p…)

>For once she's thankful for her opponent's inane banter. It gives her the reprieve she needed to at least mount a counter attack.

>While the man is taking the honorable route and commending her efforts, she slips a translucent orb into the center of her weapon, holding out the hope that this will be enough.

>...Though on the plus side, there's no way she can miss someone running straight at her, even at that speed.

>Roll 1d1000 = 476

>Odds, max damage, she yells out "Tornado" as she throws her blade, the Wind Element attuned weapon spouting out a twisting barrage of wind which would slam into the man forcing him back. Meanwhile the woman would be preparing to cast another spell, Roll to interrupt.

>If the interrupt fails, she calls out "Cure!" and her wounds seem to seal shut, and she regains her balance, no longer limping. Her face would seem a bit strained even after her wounds heal though.

>"I'm not sure how many more of those I have in me..."

>Evens min, she just shouts "Aero!" the blade cutting through the air with green slashes, and while it gives her the time to struggle to her feet, it doesn't give her the distance she needed to even try to pull off a curative spell.

>Regardless, the blade returns once its expended its magical assault.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837475

File: 1412488941188.png (66.71 KB, 396x269, PUT THAT AWAY_ WE'RE CROSSING …)



>Frech takes only a step or two back, lifting his free arm to protect himself from the green lashes of air and blade from assaulting his beautiful face.

>The consequence is naturally a few slashes to his arm and shoulder, which stings when he moves his arm back to see what had just happened.

>He's gifted with the sight of the woman recovering and grunts, his grin quickly vanishing in agitation. He had to move before she could get any distance between them.

>He was lucky enough to discover her weapon seemed to be more for long range use instead of close and personal, though he couldn't slip and actually give her the space to take advantage of him again!


>Frech jolts forward and lifts his sword high, swinging the hard pommel right down for the Turk's dominant shoulder.

>Roll 1d1000 = 796 odds, hit


File: 1412489584811.jpg (11.56 KB, 259x194, images (2).jpg)

>She's not in too good of shape, but at the same time, despite her appearances, she's not just some ordinary civilian either. The Turks aren't the elite of the elite, but they still have their pride and she isn't going to just give up against some puffed up pimp of a swordsman.

>While her weapon is meant more for range, that doesn't mean she can't fight up close if need be.

"...You'll have to try harder than that. I wouldn't be here if I'd go down that easy."

>She catches the hilt of the blade with her shuriken as the pommel comes down, and then twists it in an attempt to disarm the swordsman.

>Roll 1d1000 = 231 Odds, disarm.

>If success, she then slashes downwards with the blade, slashing across the man's torso.

>Roll 1d1000 = 467 Odds, hit.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837491

File: 1412490187805.png (204.02 KB, 307x305, More embarrassing than Servil.…)



>For a brief moment, the man's face is easily read for the Turk. Surprise, disbelief, even hints of disparagement and agitation fly through his eyes at breakneck speed.

>The unnatural twist makes Frech release his sword with a yelp, his wrist feeling as if it had nearly broken in that fraction of a second, which he instinctively pulls back.

>A mistake, given the direct slash that follows afterwards, forcing the redhead to stagger back and clutch at his chest. His shirt is torn from the gash, revealing a toned set of abs and pectoral muscles. The redhead was built, but not for strength. His muscles were lean and fit, perfect for a speedy sort of attacker than anything else.

>Frech breathes heavily and stares in astonishment at the woman, his fingers flexing as he holds his chest.

Vhat in ze...? You-!

>His eye twitches.

Vot just happened?!


File: 1412491108203.png (317.12 KB, 638x357, Black-Suit-Cissnei.PNG)

"Like I said, I wouldn't have been chosen for this if I couldn't handle this much."

>She's still in the lower half when it comes to her team, well, when Reno isn't goofing off anyways.

>Still, it wouldn't look good for her to strike down an unarmed man, at least without giving him a chance to yield first.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to just call it a day, Mr. Versuch?"

>Without giving the man a chance to reply, the Turk goes to kick the fallen sword away.

>Roll 1d1000 = 845 Odds, she does so without leaving any obvious openings.

>Evens, the pain of her wounds flares up as she goes to do so, causing her to flinch for long enough that the man could have a chance to grab the sword or prevent her from knocking it away if he's quick about it.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837494

File: 1412491777716.png (64.19 KB, 342x208, Trying my Patience Already.png)


If you are suggesting zat I yield, I am afraid I cannot.

>The man smiles a strange strained smile, though to Cissnei, there's an unmistakable tremor in his voice for a solitary moment.

>Yet, also, hints of menace as well.

Doktor's orders.

>The man jumps forward without another moment's notice, a hand shooting right for Cissnei's wrist, above her spinny slashy weapon.

>Roll 1d1000 = 365 odds, grabs it solidly.

>if success, Roll 1d1000 = 232 odds, headbutts her in their intimate proximity.


File: 1412492674266.jpg (43.98 KB, 180x270, VIIBCCissnei.jpg)

>"Why does he still have that horrible smirk?"

>She isn't prepared for the man to jolt forwards like that, nor for how strong his grip on her arm is. It's all she can do to pull back enough to avoid being headbutted.

>Close combat was never her specialty, or well, unarmed combat at least. Sure she has basic training in it, but in her current state, with her wounds...sometimes the simplest approach is best.

>Whether her opponent is a monster, or some sort of super soldier, whoever this "Doktor" is, she can figure that out later, for now, she just hopes that this man is as sloppy as his personality implies, and that he has the same weakpoints as most.

"Sorry, but I can't yield here either."

>And saying that she drives her knee upwards into his nether regions, or at least attempts to.

>Roll 1d1000 = 909 Odds, hit. Evens, her aim is thrown off due to her wounds and the grip on her wrist.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837496

File: 1412493105510.png (41.31 KB, 252x257, SURPRISE BONDAGE.PNG)




>The man freezes up, his eyes widening comically from how absolutely painful the attack was...and falls over, curling into a ball with a howl of pain.

>Which is quickly followed by an outpour of the same unfamiliar language.

Scheiße! Scheiße! Verdammt! Meinem Schritt! GNAAAAAAH!


>Roll 1d1000 = 685

>Odds, the man twitches and breathes heavily, cringing in pain as he forces himself to uncurl. It's clear the man is trying to fight through the pain and get back up, albeit his process is incredibly slow and would allow the Turk to strike him to end it.

>Evens, his eyes screw shut, cringing terribly from the attack placed as he curls into a tight ball. It appears as if he isn't getting back up from that kneeing.


File: 1412493612183.jpg (5.69 KB, 300x169, Cissnei.jpg)

>The woman breathes a sigh of relief as she watches the man fall, and massages her wrist for a moment.

>If he hadn't been so sloppy, she might have been in trouble.

>Still, he seems to be trying to get back up, and she's not sure she can take much more of this.

"Just stay down already."

>And with that said she shifts to the side, and swings the flat side of her shuriken at the back of the man's head, like a tennis racket.

>Roll 1d1000 = 915 Odds, hit. Evens, failure to your discretion.

Frech Versuch!.ZzGrellBs 837500

File: 1412493839728.jpg (19.57 KB, 515x352, Dude This Sucks.jpg)


>Frech grimaces and reaches forward as he uncurls, her blue eyes steeled hard as he tries to move.



>The man's vision becomes an explosion of stars, and with a groan, he collapses.

>His face smacks onto the floor and his fingers twitch spasmodically, his red hair a tangled mess around him.

Referee!pinkie78Os 837501


>the armoured referee would raise his hand at this point, knowing full well that Frech was down for the count

The winner is...

>he then gestures to the woman still standing

Cissnei of Shin-Ra.


File: 1412494678895.jpg (61.46 KB, 480x272, iTvlLT1gGuVfs.jpg)

>Cissnei bows to the crowd, making a mental note to report in on this "Doktor" from Guilt Edge's existence as soon as she'd left the arena.

>And then to treat her wounds and hope none of her teammates decide to comment on how rough her fight was.

>And with that she walks off, trying to mask the pain in her leg, at least until she's out of sight of the crowds.

???!.ZzGrellBs 837510


>As the woman leaves, a tall man dressed in a large grey trenchcoat and a grey cap steps past her, for the arena itself. A small pair of spectacles sit on the man's face, his green eyes hard and what appears to be a lack of emotion.

>An unmistakable Guilt Edge sash is tied around his meatier arm, the very same that Frech was wearing around his own.


>He steps in, collects the collapsed Frech, and turns to leave with his quarry quietly, heavy black boots marking each step he takes until he finally makes his leave with the same conditioned silence.

???!7iNNPsLMuM 837541

>deep within the bowels of the arena, the match had been closely followed by two pairs of eyes
>a figure hidden within a black trenchcoat and hat would chuckle despite his country's loss, the red sash with the bold black letters "GE" worn proudly on his arm
>when he spoke, it was in the same almost alien language that their first competitor had spoken in
[Another failure... At this point can we truly say we are at all surprised?]
>the figure would chuckle lightly once more, turning from the screen
[If this keeps up, I'm afraid our Leader's message will grow to be quite ineffective.]

>there was movement in the room, behind the covered figure, a low guttural growl sounding out before it spoke to the much smaller man

>its voice boomed within the locker room, like the roar of a massive creature
[These dogs have nothing to do with us, or our message.]
>yet, despite the massive volume of it, the voice was only speaking in its regular tone
[They are nothing but toys for the Doctor to entertain himself with. They may break as often as they'd like, for the world will soon see our true might!]

>the man in the black coat would simply chuckle as he turned back to the screen

[Sometimes I envy your confidence, Captain. Still, these "dogs", as you say, have yet to completely fail us. They still have one more chance to earn their meal...or become one...]
>another low chuckle would echo in the room, as the two figures focused on the screen for the next match

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837552

>at the dawn of the following match, a man stepped out into the arena, and climbed onto the ring
>on several aspects this was no normal man; tall, well built, with a stern and highly determined glare in his eyes
>Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson was no ordinary man in the NCR army, a man highly befitting the name given to him at birth
>a powerful yet fair man, who could stare down a deathclaw armed only with a 9mm handgun without blinking (and according to rumors, had actually done so)
>standing over six feet in height, with dark skin, a buzz cut, and wearing only simple camouflage pants and a white t-shirt, unarmed and unarmored
>on several aspects he was no ordinary man, but given the powers that awaited him in this competition, he would be seen as just a man

>and yet this did nothing for the Po-Korian

>he showed no fear, no weakness in his stance
>he wasn't going to cry or complain like some of the previous representatives for other countries
>he was there to do his job
>and even if it were a hopeless battle
>the NCR had faced many of those in the past
>and won

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837554

File: 1412541344459.png (193.23 KB, 300x450, 677304-staz.png)

>while the fighter for the Po-Koro team was certainly an impressive soldier, and well worthy of standing in the ring of a multi-national tournament, comparitively his opponent was...not
>whereas he was a tall, imposing dark-skinned man, his opponent was a small grey-skinned teenage boy, dressed in more casual clothing than anything that would be suited for a fight
>and whereas he was clearly ready for battle and willing to get things started, his opponent seemed to be more interested in other matters

Aw come on! I swear this stupid computer cheats!

>rather than facing his opponent, the boy was more focused on the 3DSP game console in his hands, which he was shaking out of frustration, apparently having just lost to a boss

>he'd let out a snarl and look away from it, only then seeing the Sergeant standing across from him, blinking in surprise

...oh. Are we starting now?

>he'd turn around fully to face him, giving a small sigh while he shut his game off and slipped it into his pocket

Fine, fine...


Referee!pinkie78Os 837558

>the same oddball referee that had been there during the last few matches was there once again, but this time he had an old black suit on him, not all that unusual
>the massive black beard and the tall black hat, however, were certainly more noticeable

Ladies and gentlemen of this fine nation! Allow me to officially announce this fight!

>he would gesture grandly over to Eli first

In this corner, representing the small country of Barbarossa, Eli Deppeth!

>he then turned and gestured to Sergeant Jakeson

And in this corner, representing the desert country known as Po-Koro, Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!

>he'd then raise his hand up, then swiftly swing it down

Contestants, begin!

Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Eli goes first
>odds, Sergeant Jakeson does

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837560

>the veteran army man wasn't an idiot
>he was well aware of the various powers held by people in this world
>if a battle seemed too easy to win, it almost certainly wasn't
>it still left him a little uncomfortable, but he knew better than to judge a book by its cover
>as the match begins, the Sergeant would step forward
>and holds out a hand towards his opponent, speaking out in his stern and deep voice
On behalf of the NCR, I wish you good luck, and that this will be a fair and even match.

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837567

File: 1412543218777.jpg (540.23 KB, 1080x1920, Blood-Lad.Staz-Charlie-Blood-S…)



>Eli would let out a rather bored sigh at the Sergeant's actions, stepping forward as well

>he'd reach out and take his hand, giving it a very lazy shake

Yeah, sure...

Good luck to you too.

>after a second, however, he'd squeeze his hand just a little tighter, just enough for the Sergeant to notice

>Jakeson would feel that the odd boy's hand was strangely slimy, and once he squeezed down enough, his hand would suddenly slip out from the boy's, entirely outside of his own will

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837568

>the sudden slip hadn't gone unnoticed by the Sergeant, but he made sure not to show any surprise
>he simply kept his stare down on the boy, before stepping back and lifting his fists close to his head
>after a few seconds had passed, the man would quickly step forward, but instantly crouch down as he got close to his opponent
>rather than go for a straight blow, he would instead start with a wide sweep with his leg towards his opponent's feet to bring him down
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 245

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837574

File: 1412544065904.jpg (94.48 KB, 1000x800, Staz.full.950313.jpg)

>somehow, from his casual standing position, the boy was able to leap up from the floor and over the kick, going over the Sergeant's head
>he'd land behind him, then spin around and leap up again, aiming a dropkick at the Sergeant's back
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 191

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837576

>in the middle of his sweep, the Sergeant would be able to see his opponent land behind him after his leap
>all it took were fast reflexes for the man to step aside from the dropkick, but he had little choices in how to proceed
>his opponent still in the air, the man would swing his elbow against his opponent's ribs, looking to throw him aside and back down to the floor
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 430

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837578

File: 1412544637583.png (1.62 MB, 1366x768, k1dyti.png)



>the elbow would nail Eli right in the ribs, knocking him back to the concrete with a pained shout

>he'd lay there for a few seconds longer, groaning as he held his side


>he then rolled over, inching a bit further away from the Sergeant, grumbling and groaning still

Geez, that hurt...

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837581

>Jakeson's stern face would fall slightly into a frown
>he knew there was something, some reason for this kid to have been chosen to fight for his country
>but he didn't seem to be particularly tough or even powerful
>something was missing here, but the army man couldn't afford to actually find it
I'm sorry, but it's what you have to do to win.
>quickly charging towards his opponent, the man would once again crouch as he got close
>this time however, he would reach out with his hands to grab hold of his opponent's legs
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 316

>if success

>the Sergeant would then quickly stand up and begin to spin, while still holding on to his opponent's ankles
>spinning faster and faster, he would drag Eli along the floor before lifting him up into the air
>after several spins, he would finally release his opponent and let him fall onto the floor
>roll for safe landing

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837582

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 458

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837588

File: 1412546067632.png (277.34 KB, 652x372, Blood Lad1.png)

>Eli would look up as the Sergeant grabbed onto him, his eyes widening in surprise


>he'd find himself spinning around on the concrete floor, his head and arms scraping against the floor as he was dragged around

>but, as he spun around, he'd keep secreting the slime from his upper body, thereby spreading it all around the Sergeant as he spun him around
>as such, once he threw Eli across the ring, the area around him was already covered in the slime, which was heavily layered after the number of times he was spun around
>Eli would slide along the concrete on his back after landing, coming to a stop a decent distance away, before sitting up with an odd grin on his face

Thanks for the ride, pal!

>he then gestured to the slime all around him

Good luck staying on your feet getting through that!

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837589

>the sergeant would blink, looking down to notice the trail of slime he had left all around him


>he would take two steps back, careful to remain in the small area that had remained dry

>then suddenly run forward, leaping into the air to simply jump over the slime
>Roll 1d1000 = 494
>evens, success
>odds, one foot ends up on the slime ring, causing the sergeant to slip and fall with his back on the slime

>if evens

>the sergeant simply continues to charge forward after landing
>as he gets closer to his opponent, he would stretch out his arm and swing it forward to strike Eli in the head
>evens, LARIATOOOOO! Roll 1d1000 = 590

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837595

File: 1412546986794.jpg (106.99 KB, 1600x900, Blood-Lad-1-16.jpg)

>Eli's smug expression would quickly disappear when he saw the Sergeant just jump over the slime ring he left behind, replaced by a more worried one
>which would only increase in intensity when he came running right for him



>Eli would fall back after the blow, more of the slime flying out from his body as he hit the concrete

>as such, he was able to somehow slide back onto his shoulders, then move up to a handstand position in one swift motion
>he then pushed off and leapt up to a standing position, before turning and trying to leap onto the Sergeant's shoulders
>evens, succeeds Roll 1d1000 = 962
>if successful, he'd then try to place his hands over the Sergeant's face, just coating him with more slime
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 556

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837597

>cold and slimy was the way to describe it
>with his opponent on his shoulders, the sergeant would try to reach up to grab his shirt
>and with a sudden and strong yank, try to throw Eli off of him and back to the concrete
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 747

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837612

File: 1412547758944.jpg (39.83 KB, 600x338, Blood Lad Episode 6 b12.jpg)

>as the Sergeant tried to grab Eli's shirt, he'd grab one of his wrists before he could make contact with him

Now, I'm gonna be nice and explain what's happening right now.

See, I'm one of Barbarossa's Fishmen. Eel-type, to be exact.

Which means that all this slime that's all over you will completely eliminate any sort of friction that it touches.

So guess what happens when I do this?

>he'd then jump off of Jakeson's back and attempt to shove his head down to the concrete

>evens, bulldog Roll 1d1000 = 123
>if successful, Jakeson would wind up sliding across the concrete a bit, yet his face wouldn't retain any damage from moving across it

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837616

>once the fishman jumped off his shoulders, the army man would quickly reach out with his arms
>instead of him falling onto the floor, the eel would find that he would simply stop due to the sergeant's arms having wrapped around his torso
>and with a powerful pull, the sergeant would lift him straight up into the air, and fall back onto the ground with a back suplex
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 960

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837623

File: 1412548520337.jpg (115.47 KB, 1600x900, Blood-Lad-1-5.jpg)



>much to Eli's chagrin, his plan didn't quite go the way he'd hoped, the Sergeant managing to grab hold of him before he could drop him

>he then finds himself flying backwards, before crashing into the floor neck-first thanks to the Sergeant


>the impact definitely knocks a few screws loose, the young Fishman clearly dazed from the blow

>but his genetics would prove to assist him again, as he slipped out from his prone position and try to dropkick the Sergeant in mid-air
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 75

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837624

>quickly trying to wipe the slime from his eyes, the sergeant would stand up
>the blurry grey figure wouldn't go unnoticed, and once again the sergeant would quickly sidestep the dropkick
>and seeing how effective it seemed the last time, he once again tries to drive an elbow to the fishman's side to force him to the floor
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 976

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837628

File: 1412549036820.jpg (43.59 KB, 600x337, Blood Lad Episode 1 a1.jpg)



>and again, Eli was knocked back down to the concrete, the impact dazing him even further

>he'd lay on the floor for a few seconds longer, dully groaning in pain, holding his side where he was struck

...OK, I've had enough of this...

>he'd then somehow spin around on the floor, the slime underneath him giving him more ability to move

>he'd then try to grab the Sergeant's leg and trip him up
>evens, succeeds Roll 1d1000 = 619
>if successful, he'd then try to move into an ankle lock
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 623
>if both successful, roll to escape hold

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837629

>the blurry shape would move quickly, but the sergeant just managed to move quicker
>lifting his foot to escape the grab, he would stomp it back down on the ground, but not on top of his opponent
>instead, he would use the force of the stomp to lift himself a few inches into the hair in a small jump
>and allow himself to fall down on the fishman with an elbow drop to his back
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 899

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837636

File: 1412549682434.jpg (104.11 KB, 1280x720, 3815039-4215596855-Blood.jpg)

>Eli manages to slide back across the concrete long before the Sergeant's attack could land, leaving more slime on the floor from where he lay
>once he got a decent distance away, he'd sit up again, that smug grin having returned

By the way...

Did I mention that I'm an electric eel?

>he'd curl up into a ball at this point, just as the Sergeant could see sparks of electricity jump off of his back

>then, as the electricity formed a small shield around him, he'd roll across the coat of slime, heading right for him
Roll 1d1000 = 60
>odds, he just glances across his arm, the Sergeant only getting a small stinging feeling up to his shoulder
>evens, he'd crash into him full force on his back, the Sergeant getting hit with what would feel like a typical stungun

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837641

>every muscle in the sergeant's body would constrict as the electricity crossed his body
>along with the crash, he would be pushed forward, rolling on the concrete ring as his arms still twitched from the jolt
>he grunted and grit his teeth, pushing himself back onto a kneeling position with shaking arms, too weak to counterattack just yet

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837651

File: 1412550452387.jpg (40.3 KB, 480x747, image.jpg)

>Eli would uncurl after this and stand up again, rolling his shoulders as he stood, his neck still sore from the frequent slams

Ugh...I don't know how I got roped into this...

>he'd slowly walk over to where the Sergeant was, kneeling down beside him and lightly patting his back

How about we just call it quits here, huh?

Just save you give up and we can just stop here, alright?

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837658

>slowly, the large man would manage to stand up from his knee onto his feet
>his arms still shook, but they soon settled down, and he would look at the fishman with a stern face
I appreciate the offer, but in the NCR, we don't quit.
>he lift up his fists again, ready for another round
I'm sorry, but this match doesn't end until one of us is down for the count.
>and quickly throw a fist forward to punch the fishman in the gut
>even Roll 1d1000 = 849

>if hit, he would follow up with a fast forearm blow to the side of his head

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 825

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837667

File: 1412551968997.jpg (14.92 KB, 255x355, Staz.jpg)

>Eli would shift to the side just a bit, letting the fist whizz by his side
>he'd keep grinning as he reached out to grab the arm before it pulled back

Suit yourself!

>evens, manages to grab his wrist Roll 1d1000 = 555

>if successful, he drops down and tries to pull the Sergeant into a triangle choke
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 558

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837672

>the sergeant's response would be immediate, so fast that it almost seemed instinctive
>as the fishman's hand grabbed his wrist, the Po-Koran's hand would twist to grab his opponent's wrist as well
>and given their differences in size, it was no surprise who would win in a tug of war, the sergeant yanking the eel towards him as he stepped aside
>his free arm would hook in front of the fishman's stomach, stopping his stumble, and quickly, the sergeant's other arm would reach around him, both of his hand locking together over the fishman's stomach, the army man standing behind him
>with a very powerful push, the fishman would be lifted straight up into the air, and once he had reached the highest point, the sergeant would arch his back to drive his opponent down neck-first onto the concrete floor with a german suplex

Eli Deppeth!pinkie78Os 837678

File: 1412552784589.jpg (136.16 KB, 1280x720, 1405852179_1373315527_4.jpg)



>Eli had no idea how exactly things went south so quickly, the Sergeant somehow able to snatch him up before he could think to secrete any more slime

>he was then again sent flying backwards, crashing headfist into the concrete again
>this time, the impact was enough to send Eli into unconsciousness, passing out within seconds, still positioned awkwardly on the concrete
>almost immediately after, the referee would lift his hand up

The winner of this bout is Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson of Po-Koro!

Sergeant Sternwell Jakeson!7iNNPsLMuM 837682

>slowly getting back to his feet under the sound of cheers, the sergeant couldn't say his opponent didn't put up a good fight
>so with only a small nod towards the downed fish man, the Po-Koran would make his way out of the ring and to the back, able to survive the first round for his country

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838084

File: 1412637774644.jpg (16.02 KB, 163x170, ss+(2014-09-15+at+12.17.53).jp…)

>the first contestant for the shining city of Lumina entered the fray. Dressed in a white-blue lab coat that covered his body head to toe, all but the top of his head.

>"My powers have been turned down from before... They can no longer cause lethal damage to someone... Hopefully, there will be no accidents."

>he stopped once he made it near the center of the arena, waiting for his opponent.

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838087

File: 1412638504476.png (435.92 KB, 791x1163, 1376877569065.png)

>Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh.
>She was really going to do this, why did they make her go first?! She wasn't ready to fight in front of all these people!


>Entering on the opposite side of the arena was Follows-Chalk. The Tribal Elders had all agreed they'd send her to represent the entirety of the Great Plains' centaur tribes. It had to be some cruel joke, why didn't they send an actual warrior from the War Horses?!

>She wasn't even an official adult yet!!

>Looking across to her opponent, she shyly waves to him.

H-hello honoured opponent!

>Her tribe's elder, no every tribe's elder was counting on her to bring glory to them. By the Plains-Runner she hoped she wouldn't mess up.

Referee!pinkie78Os 838089

>once again, the oddball referee was present in the ring, this time wearing a fake brown beard over his face, as well as a white karate gi
>he'd adjust his black belt wrapped around his waist, then began speaking in a gruff, growly voice

Today, two chosen warriors will represent their countries in a titanic battle that will shake the very foundations of the planet that we stand on.

...or it'd better, or else I'm gonna be really pissed off.

People die when I get pissed off.

So don't piss me off.

And don't disappoint me.

>he'd lift a hand and gesture to the Lumina representative

This is Arnfried Baumberg of Lumina.

>he'd then gesture to the centaur

This is Follows-Chalk of the Great Plains.

>he'd lift his hand up high

No more wasting time.


Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Arnfield goes first
>odds, Follows-Chalk does

Ikaros !MrCarnage2 838091

File: 1412639911911.png (42.02 KB, 242x191, Yep.PNG)

>Sitting in the stands, Ikaros held onto a large picnic basket she had prepared especially for her Master knowing she would likely be hungry after she was done fighting the strange old man who smelled like fish.

>Waving a small flag emblazoned with a green watermalon in its center, the small angeloid wished for all the world to see her Master win the fight. I seemed like it was very important to her... but even if she lost, Ikaros had packed a small first aid kit in the picnic basket... just in case...

Fight On, Master.

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838097

File: 1412640379085.png (431.82 KB, 634x548, 1378779998101.png)

>"Today, two chosen warriors will represent their countries in a titanic battle that will shake the very foundations of the planet that we stand on."
>"Fight on, Master.


>With that realization and an odd battle cry(?), the centaur is actually spurred to act first in this battle. Maybe because the sooner this was over the faster she can get away from the thousands of staring eyes!

>Armed with her 25 pound stone and wood war club, the centaur charges right at Arnfried and takes a swing at his chest with the heavy Black Stone head of the weapon.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 872

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838099

File: 1412640653054.jpg (108 KB, 500x707, tumblr_moea83MksB1rwco4ao1_500…)

I'm honored that you honor me...

>he bowed, as he grabbed the zipper of his collar

And I apologize in advanced for my ghastly appearance, it scares me too...

>he lept out of the way, zippling down his lab coat.. Revealing the majority of the lower half of his face was severely scarred. Wrapped in a skintight armor, both lightweight and protective, the Luminan had prepared.

>sparks flew from his hands and skin, his body coursing with electricity. He was formerly part of the Luminan Special Forces, Arnfried Baumberg.

>he thrusted a palm at Follows, aiming at her hip. If hit, he sends a painful shock at her.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 462

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838102

File: 1412641385333.png (601.09 KB, 887x1125, As the Pony kind say BUCK YOU.…)

>The appearance of her opponent didn't really bother her, such things as physical appearance didn't phase the centaur tribes in general. Well unless you had sharp teeth and planing on biting into their flesh. Or were a snake or spider. Or a large crowd staring at them with loud noises and flashing lights.

>At the shock causes her to jump and let out a pained and surprised neigh. An actual neigh. Which only furthered her embarrassment and unease in this situation causing her to not turn around, but raise her back legs and attempt to buck the man in the chest hard.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 222

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838108

File: 1412641948355.png (480.61 KB, 500x550, tumblr_inline_n2i9cmfSuN1rciqe…)

>Arnfried took numerous small knives from his belt, moving out of the way of the attack. Tossing the knives in the air, they landed on and around his opponent. They were small and not big enough to cause significant damage.

And God called lightning down from heaven.

>with the knives acting as a group of lightning rod, he fired a bolt of electricity at them, electrocuting her.

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838130

File: 1412643201637.png (424.12 KB, 532x522, 1383796153034.png)

>First the centaur felt stinging pain along her body, like wolves biting into her hide. Then came what she could only register as the fury of her worshipped god Himself striking her down and rending her soul in two.

>She tries to let out a scream, but no sound came out of her mouth, just silent pain. Once it was over, she falls over onto her side near the edge of the ring. Everything hurt, her ears were ringing, and spots in flashing in her eyes made it hard to see anything.

>If she were on the Plains, she'd have accepted this as a defeat, but this wasn't. This person has somehow harnessed the foot falls of the Plains-Runner, but it wasn't his fury himself. Was this a test then? To see if she could come back from such a devastating blow? Such a trial would befit a warrior... not a hunter that wasn't an adult yet.


>But maybe it was time to stop thinking like that, while she was scared of the noise, lights, and staring people all around her, she came here because their are those that have faith in her. Not just her tribe-kin, but also Ikaros on the stands.

>She had to get up, stand up and fight with everything she had! And so she did, it hurt to move and and even stand with the knifes were still sticking in her body and the pain of the strike still fresh, but she wouldn't lay down and give up. Not until she was forced out of this ring or unable for fight on her own terms!

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838144

File: 1412643757268.jpg (126.77 KB, 500x463, tumblr_mq5uwsBV3y1szhqieo1_500…)

>Arnfried, while ashamed that the Centaur was so embarrassed and he made it worse, didn't want to lose either. He had someone who cared deeply about watching as well. As someone who once had a name in Lumina but no longer, he wanted to show that he still had his wings.

I'm sorry this fight has to be brief... If we can, we will have a rematch. We can even fight in a VR Simulation, so we don't have to hold back...

>electricity began to spark from his foot

Until then, good night

>he threw a kick her way, his strength enhanced from cybernetics in his leg.

>evens, hits Roll 1d1000 = 250
>if successful, evens it was strong enough to ring her out Roll 1d1000 = 7

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838181

File: 1412646547143.png (543.16 KB, 1079x893, I shall strike down these clea…)

>The kick hurt, but her dulled senses allowed her to endure it easily enough and she wasn't force out of the ring.

This battle has only begun!!

>Her resolve reignited, Follow-Chalk grips her war club tightly and swings it repeatedly at Arnfried the speed of which was shocking with the weight of the weapon and the misleadingly slender size of her arms.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 847
>how many hit Roll 1d5 = 5

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838203

File: 1412647172959.png (150.74 KB, 496x384, tumblr_n89ovin4A41qgpxpqo1_500…)

>the centaur was far stronger than him, even with his enhancements, but he was quicker. He rubbed his hands together and pushed Follows, shocking her.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 71

>if successful, follows up the attack with a knee strike

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 791

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838608

File: 1412732955677.png (54.91 KB, 379x307, I will not allow you to win th…)

>Follows was no slouch in speed either and this time she evades the attacks quickly moving away from the edge of the ring and taking a swing at her opponent again.
>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 727

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838615

File: 1412733402284.jpg (222.21 KB, 420x600, 43602119_m.jpg)

>this time the attack his, causing Arnfried to stumble back slightly; his armor took most of the hit, but he still felt it.

>he threw another dagger at her, aiming at her hand. Trying not to cause too much damage, but to make her drop the weapon

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 584
>if successful, evens it hurt enough to make Follows drop it
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 739

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838627

File: 1412735514634.png (136.01 KB, 277x401, This door shall not stop me.PN…)

>The thrown knife catches her hand opening a gash on it, but her grip on her war club remains firm.

>Once again she tries to hit Arnfried.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 816

>If successful, evens Roll 1d1000 = 737 She follows up with a full body tackle. And being around 900 pounds, that's a lot of weight to throw forward.

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838628

File: 1412735688864.jpg (3.99 MB, 2083x2500, 40911844.jpg)

>hit once again, he lets out a short pained gasp, however, he manages to side step the second attack.

How many volts can you take? Mo'Gaillan's are strong...

>he holds two fingers up and jabs them at Follows' human hip

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 783

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838631

File: 1412736643582.png (601.09 KB, 887x1125, As the Pony kind say BUCK YOU.…)

Moe-Gal-alien? What are those?

>Ignorant to the fact someone mixed her up the the Centaur of Mo'Gallile, Follows-Chalk avoids being pocked and shocked again and counters with by trying to buck him again.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 423

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838633

File: 1412736996712.png (232 KB, 500x636, tumblr_mkq6cizb5i1qk81myo1_500…)

>this one hurt bad. Arnfried was knocked back, away from the woman. If it wasn't for his body armor, he would've suffered far more serious injuries.

...You centaurs are strong...

>he tossed another electrified dagger at her

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 676

>if successful, the attack stuns her long enough for Arnfried to go in for a knee strike to her gut.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 24

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838638

File: 1412738785999.png (119.86 KB, 334x410, Act your age people.PNG)

>As strong as she as, she probably couldn't take much more then that.

As are you...

>The stabbing, zapping, and getting kicked was something she didn't want to risk enduring any more. So putting her club away, she instead uses her bow and arrows. The tips were dulled so they wouldn't cause much serious injury to her opponent, but hopefully might pull a win for her anyway.

>She fires a quick folly at Arnfried.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 172
>how many hit Roll 1d4 = 3

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838640

File: 1412739851340.jpg (365.13 KB, 811x1200, 44994525_p0.jpg)

>as for Arnfried, he had taken less hits than his opponent, so could hold out longer than her... The bucking he had to watch out for though, he doubted he could take more hits like that.

>Arnfried dodged out of the way of the attacks.

>"Is she trying light attacks now that I'm softened up... "

>he got in close to her and swung his arm at her hip.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 135

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838830

File: 1412814410920.png (148.07 KB, 418x320, 1383795987053.png)

>Quickly backing up as she notched another arrow into her bow, she continued to pelt him with speedy shots.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 952

>How many hit Roll 1d4 = 1

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838835

File: 1412814565345.png (159.3 KB, 500x558, 36711591_p15.png)

>Arnfried dodged out of the way of the attack and went for a electrified kick
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 398

>if successful, he strikes her hip again with a electric palm strike

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 348

Follows-Chalk!aLEJudith. 838844

File: 1412814935596.png (67.35 KB, 175x223, 1380760254773.png)

>two more powerful jolts rocks her body and the Centaur has finally hit her limits.

...I can't lose... so early.

>It'd dishonor her people to fail so soon... but she felt so tired...

>Roll 1d1000 = 368

>Odds her arms tremble as she notches another arrow into her weapon and fires. odds hit Roll 1d1000 = 549
>Evens her vision starts to go and she passes out both in pain and exhaustion. KO.

!MEOWKdWFcQ 838860

File: 1412815685252.jpg (734.52 KB, 850x1200, 40102954_p5.jpg)

>as she falls, Arnfried takes a deep breath, holding up two fingers, sideways over his eyes, the Luminan Salute.

You fought well...

>he collapsed two to one knee, coughing... His fatique finally catching up to him, if it wasn't for his cybernetics and armor, he'd have lost from the first hit.

>"...I need to rest too..."

>he started to zip his coat back up

Zatanna!7iNNPsLMuM 839067

File: 1412889342537.jpg (200.19 KB, 1067x853, its magic silly.jpg)

>as people returned to their seats, carrying new buckets of popcorn, hotdogs, and refreshments, the arena still sat empty as it waited the next contestants
>until suddenly, a large burst of purple smoke would erupt right in the center of the ring, the cloud glittering under the strong lights of the arena
>as the smoke cleared to a dazzled audience, it would reveal a figure inside, dressed in black
>without the need of a microphone, her energetic voice would sound out loudly all over the arena, the magic twirling her wand between her fingers
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! On behalf of the country of Victin, as well as the Justice Avengers, I wish to thank you all for being here today to witness this special event!
>a wave of applause would begin
Now, let's make some noise for our next competitors!
>more applause would sound out, as the magician motioned with her arms to both entrances


File: 1412889614205.png (55.58 KB, 250x141, tumblr_nbri6g89Ua1tch3j8o2_250…)


>Slowly walking into the ring, buttoned up with winter gear and wearing a pair of glasses, Atoarsu Yakuwari, Gameindustri's personification of the Atlus company, stretched a bit, holding a composite metal hockey stick and having an odd computer like device strapped over his arm

>He blinked a bit, his grey eyes looking to Zatanna

...Perhaps I overdressed if it's warm enough to wear fishnets...

>He sighed to himself and slowly went to take off his hat as he waited for his opponent's entrance.
This post was edited by its author on .

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839071

File: 1412890142752.jpg (289.86 KB, 875x1321, The_Minotaur_by_danbrenus.jpg)

>The land of Mo'galile was filled with many dangerous creatures. Many terrifying beasts and freaks, some being the stuff of nightmares. Of these races included the mighty Minotaurs. Stepping out of his side of the arena, one of these beings would stomp into the ring. A large warhammer thrown over his shoulder. His every footstep booming the stadium as he stands proudly. His massive body towering over his opponent in a truly intimidating posture..... At least he would be...if he was not only half Atorasu's size.

HA! What sick man sends babies to fight me?

>This obvious disadvantage would not hinder the mini Minotaurs confidence in this fight. He was as fully prepared as the rest of his nation to bring honor and glory back home.

Zatanna!7iNNPsLMuM 839074

File: 1412890656356.jpg (93.31 KB, 411x800, smoke and mirrors.jpg)

>the guest referee would look over at the Gameindustri representative, adding with a bit of cheekiness
It's always warm when I'm around...
>and then would grin widely, pointing up at her own smile
It's my bright smile!

>at the entrance of the tiny minotaur, the magician wouldn't seem to make a big deal out of it
>while inwardly, she had to fight herself from wanting to give it a little suit and hat
>clearing her throat, she would turn towards the audience again, holding up her wand high
Our next match!
>the wand would be pointed to the right
From Gameindustri, Atorasu Yakuwari!
>then moved to the left point at the minotaur
And representing Mo'Gallile, Bolvalor!
>the wand would be lifted over her head once more
Fighters... Begin!
>she would swing down with her hand, another burst of smoke erupting, the magician vanishing from the ring as the match began

Zatanna!7iNNPsLMuM 839075

>Roll 1d100 = 2
>evens, Gameindustri goes first
>odds, Mo'Gallile gets the first blow


File: 1412891104265.jpg (111.66 KB, 1024x553, jack_frost_for_ssb4_by_element…)


...if you say so

>Atorasu says with a sigh before shrugging


>...The miniature minotaur talked a big game "What sick man sends babies", clearly he must be able to somewhat back up those words despite his diminutive stature

>Pushing a few buttons on his COMP system, he announced

Jack Frost!

>A small imp like Ice fairy appears, about the size of Bolvalor actually

Use Bufu on his legs!

>The small creature sends a blast of ice magic towards Bolvalor

Roll 1d1000 = 330

>if successful, Atorasu follows it up by running forward and slashing at Bolvalor with his hockey stick

Roll 1d1000 = 224

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839078

>Soon the rather disturbing looking female would vanish and the fight would begin. What better way then to send out a miniature snowman against the mini minotaur?


>He would be to busy laughing at the silly sight to notice the block of ice trapping him long enough to be slashed by the hockey stick.


>He screams out loud as the attack forces him to slide back.

Ohhohohoho! The little one thinks he's brave. My turn now!

>Swinging his hammer he holds it in both hands as he charges forward. With great force he swings it to try and collide with his opponent.

Roll 1d1000 = 90 Evens


File: 1412893008456.png (56.34 KB, 250x140, tumblr_nbri6g89Ua1tch3j8o3_250…)


>Atorasu's demon gets knocked over and in response, Atorasu feels the pain the demon would have, due to the contract he has


>on the ground Jack Frost laughs a bit


>he pushes a button and Frost vanishes

...he can get annoying if he's kept around too long...

>Atorasu then holds his chest where the Minotaur hit Jack Frost, before running forward and swiping his Hockey stick towards the small minotaur again

Roll 1d1000 = 858

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839081

>A light thud would be heard as the stick makes contact with the minotaur. The attack once more causeing him to slide back on the remaining Ice.

Hahaha! Such puny sticks the baby swings around. Did you leave your real weapons at home?

>With a grin he swings his hammer once more, this time aiming for Atorasu's side, hoping to swing him right out of the arena in a feat of pure strength.

Roll 1d1000 = 969 Evens

>Only in trips does the mini minotaur succeed in his main goal.


File: 1412893906846.jpg (138.39 KB, 1280x720, Persona_4_anime_Pyro_Jack.jpg)


>Atorasu jumps to the side before the miniature minotaur can hit him

I'll have you know Sharicite metal can make ANY weapon dangerous as long as there's enough Faith in what the person represents!

>he pushes a button on his comp again

Pyro Jack!

>a jack o'lantern wearing a witch hat and cloak with a cartoonish hand holding lantern appears before firing ...well a fireball, at the minotaur

Roll 1d1000 = 458
>regardless of the result, the fire from Pyro Jack's attack would fade away VERY quickly, and Atorasu would runs forward and goes to swipe at the minotaur with his hockey stick again

May all these Persona 4 spin offs guide me!
Roll 1d1000 = 272
>evens again

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839087


>The combined assault would be almost too much for the miniotaur to to take. And yet despite his brutish nature he was beginning to put the pieces together. He realized that all he had to do was focus on one target at a time and he would win the day.

>Recovering from the stick attack, he spins his hammer before swinging it with one hand at the jack o'lantern like being, taking a swing at its head.

Roll 1d1000 = 944 Evens


File: 1412895260333.png (36.24 KB, 250x141, tumblr_nbri6g89Ua1tch3j8o6_250…)


>The Jack O' Lantern dissipates into dust and the pain and force that hits Atorasu afterwards causes him to stagger all the way back to the edge of the ring

>Holding his chest, he groans a bit

I knew I shouldn't have underestimated you...

>he says with a heavy breath

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839090

>He would not respond, he had to make this quick. Releasing a great mighty battle cry he charges at his foe with every intent of knocking him out of the designated battle area, and into (What he imaged) as the hot lava below.

Roll 1d1000 = 228 Evens hit

Roll 1d1000 = 95 Evens for ring out.


File: 1412895940634.jpg (86.88 KB, 500x354, tumblr_nbse7nRLWq1s9jr32o1_500…)


>Atorasu groans in pain as he's rammed into by the mini minotaur..but he manages to keep his footing


>Atorasu takes a heavy breath...before he slowly reaches up and adjusts his glasses

>while he was still pretty hurt from the damage he took for his demons, it was clear he still had a good will to fight

>His brow relaxes and he gives the minotaur a cold look

I'm not done yet...

>he grips his hockey stick hard and swings it with all his remaining might towards Bolvalor

Roll 1d1000 = 712

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839094

>The Hockey Stick once more finding it's mark as it slashes him across the chest.

Bah, the little man is stronger then he looks.

>Gripping his hammer with both hands once more, he moves to slam the top of it into Atorasu's chest as he thrusts it forward.

Roll 1d1000 = 327 Evens


File: 1412896735577.jpg (26.3 KB, 500x281, tumblr_nbrlhb600r1tk58wmo1_500…)


>He barely manages to stumble out of the way of the Hammer thrust

>He takes off his hat and coat before throwing them towards Bolvalor, in an attempt to temporarily blind him

Roll 1d1000 = 149

>if successful, he then runs forward and goes to slash at Bolvalor with his hockey stick again

Roll 1d1000 = 550

>if success, after he hits he comments

...you know, I don't even play Hockey.

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839096

>The coat and hat end up getting caught on the hammer. This allows Bolvalor to swing his hammer to easily get them out of his sight.

>This allows the attempted new swing of the hockey stick from Atorasu. In retaliation he removes his right hand from his hammer and attempts to reach for Atorasu's neck.

Roll 1d1000 = 927 Evens.

>If he makes contact, he would actually manage to lift him off the ground before slamming him onto the arena floor.

Roll 1d1000 = 819 Evens.


File: 1412897122236.png (189.02 KB, 500x567, tumblr_nbz5fpu4Ch1thmrheo1_500…)


>Atorasu gulps and backs his head away in time to avoid being grabbed by Bolvalor

Nice try.

>He states before he tries to slam his hockey stick down towards Bolvalor's head

Roll 1d1000 = 324

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839098

>Raising his free arm up, he would manage to block the stick with the wraps around his wrist.

>Though he would still give his foe what he wanted, as with a grin he would thrust his head forward in an attempt to slam it into Atorasu's own.

Roll 1d1000 = 137 Evens


File: 1412897583633.png (105.37 KB, 528x596, jackripper_by_terraterracotta-…)


>A split second before Bolvalor would be able to head but him, Atorasu manages to pull his head up

>he lets go of the hockey stick for now, figuring he could collect it after the match

>going to his comp he pushes a few buttons before

>A skeletal man in an odd outfit wielding a knife would appear

Jack Ripper!

I know you'd rather go much more wild, but only nonvital areas!

>The skeletal demon pouts before it rushes forward and goes to stab at Bolvalor's leg

Roll 1d1000 = 727

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839100

>The stab would go into the minotaurs leg, his natural leather armor taking a good part of the blow however. It would not stop the blood from soaking through onto the knife.

>Still, this left Bolvalor with a good opprotunity. Even with his small size, one would have to crouch to reach his legs. Using this weakspot, hie would ignore the pain and go to wrap his arms around Jack's body.

Roll 1d1000 = 883 Evens.

>His head now between his legs, he would leap up slightly and slam down hard with a good old Suplex.

Roll 1d1000 = 161 Evens


File: 1412898269033.jpg (100.6 KB, 250x343, tumblr_nbv85n5B4m1si48w3o6_250…)


>Before Bolvalor could hit Ripper, Atorasu made him vanish again

>re-summoning him next to him

Alright Ripper, together now!

>the two run forward and slash towards Bolvalor with their respective weapons...

>Atorasu with his Hockey stick aimed at the gut

Roll 1d1000 = 19

>and Ripper with his knife at the side

Roll 1d1000 = 727

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839103

Roll 1d1000 = 518 Evens

>If Evens, Bolvalor would manage to grab onto Atorasu's arm before he could attack.

>He then swings him around to wack Jack before he could make it to his attack.

>If Odds be simply takes the blow from Jack, choosing to focus with a punch to Atorasu's chest to counter.

Roll 1d1000 = 945 Evens hit.


File: 1412898910079.png (45.51 KB, 250x140, tumblr_nbri6g89Ua1tch3j8o7_250…)


>Atorasu and Jack get tumbled over onto the ground

>Atorasu groans and slowly raises his head

>He makes Jack vanish and slowly gets up on his knees, before getting up the rest of the way

>he runs forward and tries to kick Bolvalor

Roll 1d1000 = 472
>if failure, he falls over after the attempted kick and falls to the ground.

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839105

>The kick ends up hitting Bolvalor's knee. His miniature form falling down to one knee as a result. He wouldn't go down so easily though. There was good reason he was picked despite his obvious disadvantage. His miniature form held more bravery and will then even the largest of his breatheren had. Grabbing Atorasu's leg as it was still connected with his chest, he attempts to turn it, the act causing him to slam into the ground on his side.

Roll 1d1000 = 975 Evens


File: 1412899505548.jpg (114.63 KB, 500x623, tumblr_nbkbku4tx61si48w3o1_r1_…)


>Atorasu feels his leg grabbed, but rather than let the small and brave Minotaur knock him over, he tries to kick his foot upward to send the Minotaur hanging on into the air

Roll 1d1000 = 452

>if success he'd shout...

This is for Lady Purple Heart!

>before going to punch the minotaur still in the air

Roll 1d1000 = 10

Bolvalor!rjtGfDeadI 839112

>The pain screeching through him would disable his ability to even shout. The punch would hit square in his chest, launching him back up the air. Seconds later he slams back onto the ground with a thud.

Roll 1d1000 = 457

>Evens, He slowly manages to get back up.

Huff....huff....that all ya got?

>Odds he remains on the ground, his mini body laying motionless.

Zatanna!7iNNPsLMuM 839119

File: 1412900386124.jpg (145.83 KB, 600x911, car homing pigeons.jpg)

>as the minotaur fell, another puff of smoke would materialize in the ring
>and from it, the same figure would step out, waving a hand in the direction of the winner
The winner! Atorasu Yakuwari, of Gameindustri!
>she would join the crowd, giving the man a round of applause before vanishing in another burst of smoke


File: 1412900584972.jpg (196.95 KB, 500x399, tumblr_nbjt16zMYJ1stre6ao1_500…)


>Atorasu takes a heavy breath and walks over to collect his hockey stick

>as he goes to regroup with the rest of the Gameindustri team, the young man turns and nods to the unconscious minotaur

You fought well, I'm sure you serve you country even better.

>he says in acknowledgement before leaving to get rest.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839142

File: 1412902702733.png (84.47 KB, 500x509, Hnnngh.png)

>it felt so strange to be in the arena, with everything else surrounding the situation
>here he was, representing Wayne Manor - which was somehow a country into of itself, Crona still couldn't fathom how that even happened - in another tournament, but without anything hanging over their heads
>other than just the necessity to make their homestead look good, which was all the motivation Crona really needed

>not that he was fully certain Alton even cared about how Wayne Manor looked to the rest of the world, but it certainly couldn't hurt to come back and say that they won it and proved to the world they were just as legitimate a country as any other

>bringing back a nice trophy to put up on the mantelpiece should cheer him up at least a little bit, or so he hoped
>so even if it was a bit odd, he owed it to Alton to put in as much effort as he could

>as such, when it was time for Wayne to step up, he entered the ring without any hesitation, trying to ignore the awkward chills running up his spine

>the fact that they had to face off against their closest neighbour in Equestria was only part of the problem, as Crona couldn't begin to guess who he'd be up against
>anyone from the royal court to the Riftguard to the TPD could be the one to square off with him
>but the fact that he could hear a few murmurs of vague recognition from the Silver City citizens in the arena only added to his growing uneasiness, and he tried his best to ignore that as he waited for his opponent to arrive

Guard Pony!rjtGfDeadI 839176

File: 1412904819922.jpg (100.54 KB, 638x770, Armor up.jpg)

>The answer to Crona's Question would come as soon as he asked. For appearing seemingly from nowhere a full armored Equine makes his way up the makeshift stairs leading to the arena.

>No horn protuded from him armor, no wings on his side. This could lead one to come to the conclusion that this pony was Earth in nature.

>At his side, the standard issue Canterlot Guard spear was strapped to his armor. No other weapons were apparent on his person.

>His armor clinked and clanked as took his spot on the side opposite of Crona. Even with his helmet covering his face, Crona could feel the pony staring at him with intently. He said nothing as he awaited the fight to begin.

Referee!pinkie78Os 839181

>once the two participants stood face-to-face in the ring, the referee made their entrance and stood nearby
>but instead of being the usual cosplaying ref, this one was a woman, her long brown hair done up in a bun and decked in a typical business suit
>and when she spoke, it was in a rather smarmy soccer mom-esque tone

Well golly gee, folks! Sorry to keep y'all waiting, but we can get this started right straight away!

>with a chipper wave of her hand, she gestured to the guard pony

In this corner, we've got the representative of Equestria!

Who seems a bit shy at the moment, but that's OK!

>she then spins and gestures to Crona

And over here, we've got this little guy representing Wayne Manor, one Crona Makenshi!

>she took a step back to give them more room, then raised her hand

Now, no funny business, kiddies! Let's play nice!

Aaaaaand go!

Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, guard pony goes first
>odds, Crona does

Guard Pony!rjtGfDeadI 839186

>The bell had rung. Without wasting a moment, the fully armored pony would zip forward. His armor pounding on the ground before he actually managed to stand on his hind legs and slide forward.

>His Right hoof ready for the attack, sparks flying from it as he as he makes his way closer to Crona. With great speed he would slam his hoof into Crona's chest with a soul wavelength attack.

Roll 1d1000 = 292 Evens.

>If hit he would stay motionless for a while. Glaring at Crona before leaping back and returning to all fours to center ring.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839244

File: 1412910285088.png (82.39 KB, 244x273, I saw what you did there and I…)

>Crona couldn't help but feel a bit underwhelmed by who his opponent turned out to be, just seeing a standard armoured Earth pony
>not that that was cause to underestimate them, they had to be the chosen representative for a reason, but they certainly didn't look the part
>he found himself looking over at the referee with a dirty expression, mainly at her remark of him being "little"
>sure, he was still pretty skinny despite his workouts, but he wasn't short-


>he'd be jolted out of his thoughts by the pony's hoof crashing into his chest, his Wavelength bursting through his body

>he'd skid back from the blow, stumbling a bit before righting himself, holding his chest where he was struck
>he'd whip his head up to stare in shock at the pony, recognizing what just happened

How did he-?!


>his black blood wings would soon burst from his back and wrap around himself, shielding him from whatever the pony would do next

There's only one pony I can think of that knows how to use their Soul Wavelength...

>it may not be them, but who else would even know?

Guard Pony!rjtGfDeadI 839265

>A defensive move. I would be harder to get a clear shot with that kind of living armor. Taking his spear he would slide the blade on the ground with such force that the entire blade would break off and bounce out of the ring.

>With a few spins as if to gain momentum, the Equine would charge toward Crona. Standing on it's hind legs he would deliver a fury of swipes with the now blunted ends of the staff.

Roll 1d1000 = 34 Evens

Roll 1d5 = 2 hits

>If all five hits make their mark, the final blow of the staff would be followed by a launch to the air with a flick of the staff, where Crona would be hit with a soul Wavelength uppercut on his way down.

Roll 1d1000 = 233 Evens.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839281

File: 1412912162323.png (231.8 KB, 639x359, 044.png)

>the twin strikes manage to sneak through the openings in Crona's defenses, smacking him in the face and sternum
>grunting for a brief moment, he'd then move the wings back to dive forward and lunge for the pony
>his wings would dissolve, and a maroon aura could be seen coming off of him as he channeled his Wavelength into physical strength, attempting to grab the pony around the middle
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 188
>if successful, he'd lift the pony up over his head, then turn and toss them across the ring
>roll for safe landing

Guard Pony!rjtGfDeadI 839296

>Roll 1d1000 = 608

>If Evens, the pony would manage to twist his body around in his heavy armor and land on all fours. His hooves kicking up dust as he slides to a halt.

>If Odds, he lands on his backside. A loud thud and a grunt escaping from the helmet as he rolls back to his feet. One of his forelegs slipping in the standing process.

>Either way, the pony would then charge forward. With a leap he would land just short of Crona before tucking into a ball, and kicking the swordsman with both Hindlegs as he thrusts himself forward with his forelegs.

Roll 1d1000 = 830 Evens.

>If hit, he would roll back into a firm standing position.

>If miss, failure at your discretion.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839311

File: 1412913920003.png (69.22 KB, 244x273, I call bullshit.png)

>Crona grumbled under his breath as the pony landed on his feet again, then charged right for him
>he gets ready to counter the blow, but the pony was a little too fast for him, and so he gets two hooves to the chest that knock him further back
>he flies back a bit, but he's able to drag his feet into the concrete again to halt his momentum, stopping a few feet away

...OK, there's one way I can be sure of who I'm up against...

>the aura dissipates as his Wavelength goes back to normal, and he charges across the ring again

>he then thrusts a palm up from undernearth, aiming at the pony's chin, his Wavelength pushing through his arm and being able to bypass his armour completely
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 716

Guard Pony!rjtGfDeadI 839354

File: 1412915860358.png (Spoiler Image,24.61 KB, 480x854, awwww dude.png)

>The blow to the chin would manage to lift to guard up into the air. However, his helmet would go up farther then he did. The pony would be forced onto his back. His helmet, rolling across the arena, rolling out of the area entirely.


>A moment of silence as the dust cleared from the attack. The people with a good view of the downed Equine would gasp at the sight.

...Awww dude... Harder to breathe under those things then I thought.

>AN all too familiar voice would reach Crona's ears. Flipping himself up, the red and black mask would stare down at Crona, before scratching his head with his forehoof.

Not one of my better ideas let me tell ya.How did Atta do this for three hundred years straight? I could barely do it for five minutes. Ugh, I should have let the country guy take this spot.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839360

File: 1412916225067.gif (196.33 KB, 160x345, Hey Man, Personal Bubble, You …)



Well, that confirmed it.

>Crona would straighten back up after the pony got back up, shaking his hand briefly as a response to the bit of pain shooting through it

>he doesn't seem all that surprised by this turn of events, though he does have something of a curious look on his face, which is carried in his voice when he did speak

I guess it's just one of those things you have to get used to over time.

Then again, as far as I know Atta was genetically engineered for that sort of thing, so maybe you're born with it.

>he hold his wrist while slowly rotating it, tilting his head as he spoke further

So why did you disguise yourself, anyway?

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839362

>As Crona would speak, Deadpony would begin undoing his armor, the plates falling to the ground with a thunk revealing more of his usual costume which he thankfully wore underneath, minus his usual ammo belts and swords.

Number of reasons. I mean I've been at the manor for a while now. Kinda thought people would think you guys were cheating if I showed up on another team.

>Using his mouth to undo the last knot of the rope that held his leg guards in place, he would kick the suit out of the ring.

That, and because I kinda felt like I was stabbing you guys in the back. I mean I only just got this job and then suddenly this thing comes popping up. Yeah when the one running the country asks you to do something it's hard to say no, but It felt like I was just stabbing you guys in the back. I mean yeah I was tempted a few times but that was different. I actually ended up taking out the people who made those offers personally. Though, I will admit I had too much fun with Nazi, who willingly wears that much green? And then with a red cape? Look out everyone! Captain Christmas is attacking.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839366

File: 1412917478655.png (90.01 KB, 211x295, What No, I'm Not Checking You…)

>Crona slowly raised an eyebrow as Dead went on his tangent, his curiosity shifting into confusion after a little bit
>he'd let go of his arm and shake his head, holding up a hand after a moment


You do remember that this is all for sport, right?

I'm pretty sure no one will blow a gasket if you're playing on another team.

>he lowered his hand and then shrugged, clearly not seeing anything wrong with any of this

I mean, Xion's on the Valorcall team, and there's no reason to hold that against her.

So it's really no big deal.

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839376

>For a moment Wade would stand there in silence. His expression unreadable underneath his mask, but anyone who knew him would be able to tell he had not thought about that in the entire time leading up to this.

...oh yeah...

>Shrugging his forelegs he seems to shrug off any inherit shame one would naturally get for being so blindsighted. Though to be honest, this isn't the worst thing he's done at one of these events.

Eh, least I got a cool suit of armor out of it.

>Flicking his front hoof, he reequips his staff. The placement over what would be his shoulder with his foreleg wrapped around the weapon as it rested.

Welp, nowhere to go but charging at each other in a blazing brawl of Glory. Oh yeah, and before I forget. Now that I'm out of the house, I forgive you for the whole Rip thing...still don't like her though.

>Standing on his hind legs, he Stretches out his free hoof forward to invite fight to resume.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839383

File: 1412919695358.png (107.27 KB, 462x337, One Day, Waldo, I WILL Find Yo…)

>well, at least that was one thing he didn't have to worry about
>though the fact that Rip was a human now sent a brief chill up Crona's spine, wondering if someone was going to pick a fight with her when she was in no way able to put up a proper defense
>he'd definitely have to check in on her as soon as possible

Right then...guess there's nothing more to be said.

>he wasn't about to back down from this, he wanted to give Alton something to be proud of

>and regardless of who was standing in his way, he wasn't going to hold back
>as such, the maroon aura would reappear around his body as he rushed towards him again, his strength increasing once more
>he then leapt in the air and aimed both feet at Dead's face
>evens, dropkick Roll 1d1000 = 213

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839389

>And so it officially began. No more hidden identities or false pretenses to stop this fight from happening. There was almost no part of Wade that didn't enjoy this. For three years these two had been on their on again off again roller coaster of angst and acceptance. And now, even though Crona didn't admit it, Wade knew he was just as willing to blow off steam against him as he was. So to settle the score, and bring home the gold for Equestria, Wade was going to give it his all. Though, considering both these fighters had accelerated healing abilities, this fight was likely going to last a while, and he loved it.


>Rolling underneath Crona's drop kick, Wade would spin his staff around to try to smack him in the back of the head as he fly past.

Roll 1d1000 = 761 Evens

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839395

File: 1412920822418.jpg (53.5 KB, 470x468, Would You Please Quit Staring …)

>as Crona flew through the air, he'd see out of his peripheral vision the staff Dead was wielding flying for his face
>he'd spin around just in time and catch the staff before it struck him, landing on the concrete in the same instance
>still holding onto the staff, he'd then exert his heightened strength to try and lift Dead off of the ring
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 894
>if successful, he'd then swing the staff around once before tossing it and Dead across the ring
>roll for safe landing

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839402

Roll 1d1000 = 250

>If Evens, Wade's body is once again able to twist itself to avoid any major damage. This time landing on only three legs as he slide backward. The staff would serve as a fourth to keep him out of edge of the ring.

>If Odds, He would slam onto the ground on his back and roll away before struggling to get up.

>Words of the past echoing in his head, he would instead slowly move forward and await Crona to make the next move to counter.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839407

File: 1412922243614.png (140.89 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-16h21m15s74…)

>Crona tossed the staff aside after Dead landed, rolling his wrist again while trying to think
>the both of them could last a long time in this fight, and it'd only take longer with these rules in place to prevent them from going completely all out against each other
>so if Crona wanted to win this, he'd have to be smart about it


>he knew that Dead really wanted to fight him, meaning that if he waited too long, he'd likely jump on the offensive in short order

>so, with that thought in mind, his black blood wings would spring from his back again, and he'd take off into the air, slowly rising up from the ring until he was hovering a good ten feet off of the floor

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839410

>And now Crona seemed to have air superiority in this fight. While most would question this to be against the rules, Wade would not considering they had pegasi flying around rampant in all parts of Equestria.

Aww come on, don't be shy. I promise I won't bite. Equines aren't even built to eat meat.

>Still, Wade couldn't just leap up and go in for the offense. That would be stupid. On all fours he awaits Crona's move like a tiger facing against an eagle. Though, most tigers didn't have Wade's bag of tricks.


>With a shout, a solid stream of fire would burst from Wade's muzzle. The stream shooting up toward Crona at fast speeds.

Roll 1d1000 = 9 Evens.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839412

File: 1412923552586.png (367.4 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h43m17s15…)

>Crona would quickly weave to the side to narrowly avoid the burst of fire, a grin perking up on his face

That's not what I was doing!

>the black wings would then suddenly melt away, just as Crona hardened the black blood underneath his skin

>he snapped his arms to his sides as he dropped, heading feet-first right for the ring from a fair distance up


>he'd land right at where he took off, a brief dust cloud kicking up when he did

>when it cleared, Dead would see Crona ankle-deep in the ring itself, the concrete having cracked around where he landed, with his arms folded and waiting for Dead to do something

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839416

>Watching the short one crack the ground as he made impact, Wade would look somewhat unimpressed.

Yeesh, do ya do this much foreplay with the maid? It's a wonder she stays interested in that case.

>He had gotten harder. And for once that wasn't inuendo. Getting on all fours he rushes forward and readies a front hoof. Sparks emit as he readies to assault Crona with another soul wavelength attack.

Roll 1d1000 = 441 Evens.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839417

File: 1412924574188.png (382.76 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h25m13s51…)

>still looking rather sure of himself, Crona would raise his hand up and catch Dead's hoof before it could connect with him, the Wavelength attack failing to hit

If that's the best trash talk you have, this is really gonna be a disappointment!

>he'd then thrust his free palm at Dead's chest, his own Wavelength pouring through his arm

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 711
>if successful, he'd then switch his Wavelength back to heighten his strength, then attempt to judo throw Dead over his head
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 290

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839424

Crona, please...

>Shifting to the side, Deadpony would dodge the attack with ease. His face now directly up against Crona's.

I don't wanna rustle your jimmies too much~

>Roll 1d1000 = 572

>Evens, The soul wavelength he had been chargeing slams into Crona's Torso with full force. Max Damage.

>Odds, Wade is enjoying the moment too much and instead spins around to deliver a kick to Crona's side. Min Damage.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839427

File: 1412926417397.png (249.59 KB, 639x359, 062.png)


What the hell does that even-


>Crona's question would be cut off by Dead's Soul Wavelength managing to connect, the burst of energy rocking his whole body

>his breath would leave his lungs and he'd quickly double over, dropping down to the concrete as he held where he was struck
>his ankles remained where they were, however, putting Crona in something of an awkward position

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839432

>Watching Crona fall to the ground, Wade would catch him by the hair and lift him back straight.

Work it Mac baby.


>He sais before pushing Crona just enough to get Crona straight to his feet. His hooves suddenly being equipped with boxing gloves. As he Crona leans forward once more, Wade would begin to wail on him as if the poor guy was a punching bag at the local gym.

Roll 1d1000 = 50 Evens

Roll 1d10 = 2 Hits.

>If second roll is ten, the last punch would have stars surrounding it as he goes in for an uppercut, sending Crona out of the prison he had put himself in.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839434

File: 1412927487470.png (454.33 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h27m48s59…)

>Crona would hear Dead's quip, but the reference would naturally go lost on him
>he'd then receive two quick punches to the face, the impact from the blows waking him up just enough to get him back into the fight

Wait, where the hell did he get the gloves?!

>apparently having forgotten to stop asking these questions when it came to Dead, he shook his head and balled up his fists to retaliate

>the black blood again hardening under his skin, he'd duck down and swing a right hook for Dead's stomach
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 448
>if successful, he'd then swing a left hook for Dead's face
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 694
>if both successful, he then rears back and goes for a right uppercut at Dead's jaw
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 481

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839507

>The two blows would make contact as expected, yet the punch to the face would push Deadpony back enough so the Uppercut swooshed right passed him.

Woo, got a little carried away did ya?

>Gloves still equppied, Wade reaches to grab for Crona's collar and, well where the pants would be.

Roll 1d1000 = 943 Evens.

>If he did so, he would manage to pull Crona out of the arena where he had been stuck, and throw him over his head to slam him into the ground head first.

Roll 1d1000 = 57 Evens

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839509

File: 1412978323708.png (231.8 KB, 639x359, 044.png)

>Crona would shake his head after Dead reeled back, still trying to shake the cobwebs out
>he'd quickly raise his hands and grab his wrists before he could touch him

Oh, I'm just getting started!

>he'd then rear back and swing a hard headbutt at Dead's snout

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 30
>if successful, he'd then tuck Dead's arms under his and try to suplex him over his head
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 1000

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839510

>Unheard by anyone else, Wade's neck would snap as he hits the arena floor. A relativly large crater forming inside of the already established one.

>As Crona let go, Wade's body would fall down to the arena floor motionless. No quips, no gasps of air, he lay there with a smile apparent underneath his mask.

COncerned Citizen!rjtGfDeadI 839511

>From the stands however, an African Gentleman would stand up with a Megaphone in hand. Pointing down to the arena he would shout.


>Looking to the side, he then runs off as security chases after him for causing a commotion.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839516

File: 1412979965771.png (82.39 KB, 244x273, I saw what you did there and I…)

>Crona blinked as Dead went sailing over his head, having not meant to exert as much strength as he did
>seeing his body crash into the dirt and leave a crater behind soon caused panic to set in


>he knew that Dead himself would be fine after that, but if he was actually dead at this moment in time, then he'd be out of the tournament for sure

>as he started to free himself from his own concrete confinement, the referee and a couple of medical staff rushed out to where Dead fell, checking on him to get a good measure of his condition

Nurse Redheart!rjtGfDeadI 839521

File: 1412981532254.png (205.78 KB, 1280x720, Nurse_Redheart_thanks_Twilight…)

>The cheif expert on Equine health would rush to Deadpony's body laying on the ground. Carefully she moves her hooves to check for the basic signs of life and possible excessive damage.

>Rolling because healing factor strength varies.

Roll 1d1000 = 935 Evens

>Odds, the medic raises a green flag.

He's ok! He's just out of it.

>If evens she looks up with a look of concerned.

Sweet Celestia, this Stallion's neck is broken.

>Reaching down to her satchel, she would begin to pull out her red flag.

Roll 1d1000 = 648

>odds, uninterrupted.

>Evens, Wade's hoof jolts up and stops her.

...Don't even think about it.

Referee!pinkie78Os 839525

>the referee knelt down and narrowed her eyes as Nurse Redheart checked on Deadpony, already getting a good idea of the damage inflicted
>it certainly didn't look promising, but to her surprise Nurse Redheart would raise the green flag, which was enough to tell her that the pony was still alive
>she'd glance back at the ring and see Crona's clear panic on his face, which was enough to tell her that he didn't actually intend the damage he caused
>it was a bit presumptuous, but then again they'd have to delay things further otherwise, and it was her job to make judgment calls
>soon enough, she stood back up and spoke in her phony cheery accent, trying to calm the crowd

Sorry for the wait, folks, but I think we've got a winner!

>she'd raise her hand and gesture to Crona

The winner of this bout is Crona Makenshi of Wayne Manor!

>with that, the other medical staff unfolded a stretcher and carefully placed Dead on it, getting ready to carry him away
This post was edited by its author on .

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 839533

>The medical staff carried Wade away from the scene to further exaime his injures. They would be in for a surprise when they tried to draw blood, let alone remove his mask.

>However as he moved off, unseen by the rest of the staff who were too into their jobs, Wade would give a thumbs up to Crona's direction until he was rushed out of sight.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839535

File: 1412984013210.png (183.94 KB, 501x312, OK, OK, You I Can Tolerate.png)

>Crona would let out a huge sigh of relief after the call was made, his hands moving up to cover his face as he lay on the concrete
>that was as close a shave as he could get, and if it had been anyone else he would've been gone for sure
>at least now he would make sure to be extra careful with whoever he was against next time
>he'd drop his hands away just as Dead and the medical staff passed by him, allowing him to see the gesture the pony would give
>a relieved smile still on his face, he'd lift a hand and return the gesture, adding a small nod to it as well
>he'd then sit back up and start pulling his feet out from the concrete, already thinking of what his team should expect next round

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839864

File: 1413067555535.png (88.81 KB, 266x239, Well That's Awful Sweet Of You…)

>and just like that, he was being sent out for another fight almost immediately after the last one
>Crona naturally felt just a bit grumpy about that, having managed to calm down from his shock of almost getting disqualified, and hoping to rest up in the next round
>but his teammates seemed to think otherwise, giving the excuse that if he won the last match, he could keep a lucky streak going for the next round or two
>or rather, he was the punching bag until someone beat him
>regardless, he took the decision on the chin and headed for the arena once again, rolling his neck from side to side as he exited the doorway
>he made a quick hop up into the ring, then flushed a bit when he heard a smattering of cheers from the crowd, evidentially still remembered in their minds after his last fight
>he gave a sheepish grin and a small wave to them, then turned to look across the ring, his only thought at the moment was who his opponent was, as he hadn't checked to find out who they were fighting that round

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 839869

File: 1413068208931.jpg (10.72 KB, 179x282, ICan'tSee.jpg)


>It was the strangest and maybe cruelest coincidence.

>They had taken lots about who would go next in the tournament before the rounds had been decided. The orc had gone first, and to Xion's extreme pleasure, the orc had lost in the first round.

>For a while Xion enjoyed a rare sense of smugness, though after the second rounds had been decided, she found that her turn had plotted her against Wayne Manor.
>She knew this was a possibility, though she never would have anticipated the circumstance happening on her own turn.

>She also was aware that the very last fight was Wayne Manor versus Equestria. She had watched it over a television link, and had been cheering for Crona. Her tenseness from the uncertain ending of the fight left her nervous for him, but luckily he wasn't disqualified from the tournament itself.

>Xion wasn't anticipating seeing Crona again in the ring. She suspected that maybe the Manor would put someone fresh out instead.

>But, as she waits on the stage, her hood pulled over her head and face shadowed from the bright lights, she inwardly groans when she sees Crona once again emerge from the opponent's waiting room.


>Xion takes a deep and slow breath, flexing her fingers briefly to loosen up.

>It was just Crona. She just needed to fight Crona. She fought Gorgon before, this wouldn't be that different, would it?


>At least she knew his blood gimmick, though he knew enough about her own magical capabilities too. It'd certainly be interesting, whatever happened next.

Referee!pinkie78Os 839881

>the male referee had made a return after missing out on the last couple of matches, though he certainly made up for lost time with one of his most flashy outfits yet
>it would actually take most people a minute to even notice that the referee was a "he" to begin with, as he was wearing a black and white striped dress, with a blond wig atop his head
>the big sunglasses over his eyes and the lipstick only further muddied things, but his voice game it away, as he spoke in a rather poor version of a woman's voice

Alright my lovely little lambs, we're getting ready to start round two.

>he would lift a hand and gesture over to Crona

Over here, once again representing Wayne Manor, is Crona Makenshi.

>he'd then turn and gesture over to Xion

And over here, representing Valorcall, is Xion.

>he'd straighten up and raise a hand, waving to the crowd in general before speaking again

Alright guys...

Let's get this started.

Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Crona can go first
>odds, Xion can

>either way, cont.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839909

File: 1413070594028.png (74 KB, 446x269, What The Friggidy-Fuck!.png)



>it took Crona a few minutes to register just who he was looking at

>at first, he didn't immediately recognize her, her petite form wrapped in her dark robe and hood making it so he couldn't see her face

>and even after the referee made the call and said who she was, it still didn't fully click in his head
>of course he knew that Xion was representing Valorcall for the Nords as the Dragonborn, but he figured her team had some sort of strategy in mind so that she'd be their secret weapon
>to use her so quickly after the previous round didn't seem like a sound plan to him, and yet, there she was


>his earlier good mood was, of course, completely gone, as it finally sunk in that this meant he'd have to actually fight Xion

>two years ago, at the first tournament they went to in Guilt Edge, she seemed interested in the idea, even if he wasn't
>and last year, the conversation never came up, as everyone was far more concerned with Shang Tsung and his plotting, as well as what Gorgon was up to
>now he had no clue if Xion still wanted to test her skills against him

>he knew for sure that he still didn't want to fight her

>some would say that was a sign that he believed he could beat her, but that was far from the truth
>he was fairly certain that Xion could kick his ass with ease - she could use the Dragon Shouts, her soul was far stronger than his, and that wasn't getting into her vast array of magic that he was sure he didn't see fully still
>sure, he could take a lot of damage, but in this situation that wouldn't mean much of anything, as one good shout could blast him out of the ring
>but he knew that statistics meant nothing in an actual fight, and even with all the rules in place, accidents could still happen, and she could still get hurt
>his last fight proved that, as one lucky throw almost got him thrown out of the tournament altogether
>and no matter what was at stake, he didn't want that


>if this was another tournament, chances were he'd just forfeit right then and there, and not even worry about it anymore

>but if he dropped out right now, there's no way his other teammates would forgive him
>and even if he never said it, he'd be sure Alton wouldn't forgive him either
>so his hands were tied this time - all he could do was go through with this and hope that it would end favourably


>even so, he didn't make any movements or get ready to attack

>he just stood there, staring at Xion with his expected uneasy expression, waiting to see what she would do
>he gripped onto his own arm and shuffled from side to side uncomfortably, just hoping nothing went seriously wrong in this fight

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 839919

File: 1413072072217.jpg (46.23 KB, 385x210, Cheer NEVER Gives up!.jpg)


>Xion, after the referee declares the fight to start, reaches up and pushes her hood back away from her face. It falls behind her, revealing her dark hair and pale face, her own expression just as unsure as Crona's.

>In a flash of light her Keyblade appears in her right hand. It's they typical Key shape, the silver blade catching the lights hung above them and the golden hilt twinkling as she slowly twists it around in her wrist.


>The corner of her lip turns up when she sees Crona grab his own arm and shift around. It was so like him when he was nervous to do that, and even now she found it strangely endearing.

>Xion nods once and lifts her blade up, her blue eyes sparkling.

Good luck, Crona! Don't hold back, alright? Give me what you got!

>She smirks, her blue eyes hardening as an aura of magic surrounds her blade.

>Xion knows this first move is technically her holding back, but if he wasn't being that responsive right now, maybe this would give him the jolt he needed to get up and go.


>An arc of yellow lightning shoots out of her Keyblade in a zap, shooting up into the air for a moment before zipping back down right for the pink haired swordsman.

>Roll 1d1000 = 321 odds, hit!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839932

File: 1413072947318.png (67.58 KB, 244x273, What the fuck is that.png)





>the bolt of lightning hits Crona dead on, his entire body tingling as electricity went through him

>he'd stop after a few seconds, his body still shaking as he stared at Xion with a thoroughly shocked look on his face


>he then relaxed and let out a sigh

Well, I got my answer...

>of course, even with her request, he would have to hold back somewhat, but he still got the idea

>if this was what she wanted...

>Ragnarok would appear in Crona's hand in the next instant, and in one quick motion he swung upwards

Here it comes!

>a large wave of black energy would then fly across the ring, heading right for Xion

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 390

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 839935

File: 1413073375787.png (70.94 KB, 279x141, Ouchies!.PNG)



>Xion raises her Keyblade to create a reflect barrier, but she moves too slowly. The energy collides into her and sends her flopping back with a yelp, dark static crackling over her coat for a moment.


>Yes, he definitely seemed to get the memo.

>Xion squints and looks to Crona, then manages a small grin.

Alright, now that's more like it!

>Even on the ground, it doesn't stop her from pointing the Keyblade at Crona, the same magic crackling around the weapon.


>This time, Xion's bolt shoots out in a large and solid blue bolt, surging right for Crona's skinny frame.

>Roll 1d1000 = 445 odds, hit!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 839943

File: 1413074122349.png (183.94 KB, 501x312, OK, OK, You I Can Tolerate.png)

>as soon as the energy wave had been flung, Crona was already running across the ring, getting ready to follow up the attack
>he could end this quickly with one hard push, just to get her out of the ring-



>in an amusing mirror of his earlier reaction, he again lets out a cry and jolts with the bolt of lightning hitting him, this time falling back onto the concrete with the impact

>this one certainly felt stronger than the last, and it'd take a few seconds more for him to sit back up again, his arms and legs tingling from the shock
>he'd groan and shake his head, looking across at Xion again, a rather weary grin forming on his face

...I'm getting the feeling you're enjoying this a bit.

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840035

File: 1413091167306.png (244.96 KB, 500x667, Keyblade Bitchslap.png)


>Xion pushes herself up onto her feet and swishes her Keyblade aside, managing a small smile.

>She lifts the Keyblade and points it at him, her eyes sparkling with mischievousness.

It's not every day I can actually spar with you and expect something good, you goof!

>For a moment the blade glows brightly with a magical aura, her eyes steeling.

Now show me what you're made of! If you can fight Deadpony then you can fight me!


>A spray of icy magic shoots at Crona, seizing the air with a chilly blast.

>Roll 1d1000 = 750 odds, hit!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840040

File: 1413092628931.png (65.35 KB, 207x153, Just Focus On My Face And Not …)

>Crona's eyes would widen and he'd quickly fall back to the concrete, the burst of icy magic flying right past him afterwards
>he'd respond in a slightly uneasy voice, a crooked smile on his face as he stared skyward

That comparison doesn't entirely work...

Especially considering I nearly got disqualified over my fight with him...

>he'd then place his hands and feet flat on the concrete, then displays his unusual level of flexibility by pushing himself up into a bridging position, his thin stomach sticking up in the air

>with one more push, he'd spring up to his feet, rotating his shoulders while flashing a smile at Xion

But, as you wish!

>he'd then dash for her, two palms immediately thrusting at her middle, his Soul Wavelength pushing through them

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 381

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840045

File: 1413094100701.png (348.62 KB, 570x423, DON'TMESSWITHMEMAN!.PNG)


>Xion ducks into a roll, quickly evading Crona's rush with a jingle of her coat's drawstrings and a squeak of her boots. Her Keyblade scrapes over the floor on the contact, but so close to Crona now, she knows she needs a way to force him back.

Close and personal, huh? Alright!

>She wonders how well Crona would keep up with this?

>She takes her Keyblade in both hands and shouts again, a strange aura surrounding her weapon.


>Xion swings her Keyblade, charging even closer to the swordsman in a direct challenge of his melee prowess.

>Roll 1d1000 = 501 odds, slams her Keyblade into Crona in a barrage of Roll 1d8 = 7 hits

>If 6 or more hit, Xion jumps back and fires a rainbow-colored light right at Crona to finish her combo

>Roll 1d1000 = 663 odds

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840048

File: 1413094921214.png (270.21 KB, 639x359, 080.png)

>Crona would skid to a halt after his attack missed, trying to move quickly to lunge for Xion again
>unfortunately, just as he turned around to face her, he heard her give the call for one of her more powerful attacks, causing his eyes to widen

Oh cra-

>before he could try to defend himself, Xion was already wailing on him, her Keyblade striking his body over and over again, each of his limbs getting bruised along with his chest

>the last blow would knock him into the air, but as he fell, he'd see a powerful burst of light fly right at his face



>the force would make him see stars as he flew across the ring, tumbling along the concrete shortly afterwards

>he'd slow to a stop a good distance away, groaning in clear pain after he stopped, his whole body feeling sore already
>he'd slowly sit up again, holding a hand over his eyes, now dizzy in addition to being very sore

She really isn't holding back...but then again, I can take this sort of thing...I think...

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840050

File: 1413095443040.jpg (48.65 KB, 443x581, Coming for You Man!.jpg)


>As Crona dizzily tries to collect his bearings, the sound of Xion's heels rapidly falling onto the arena's concrete would reach his ears. She races at him, closing half of the distance as she reels her Keyblade back with a swing of her arm.

>Crona was hardy and strong, able to harden his blood and to take a beating. This was more like love taps to the kind of punishment she had seen him take.

>This was a tournament and they had to fight each other for the glory of the country they represented, as much as she respected Alton and the Manor, and as much as she loved Crona, she wouldn't give any less than her best for the people that believed in her.


>The Keyblade wielder and Valorcall representative skids to a stop and slings the blade like a boomerang, the whirling weapon whizzing right for Crona's head.

>Roll 1d1000 = 322 odds, CLANG!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840053

File: 1413096026463.png (367.84 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h43m14s83…)

>Crona blinked a few times to try and get his sight working properly again, only to hear Xion call out again
>he'd look up just in time to see the Keyblade flying towards him, this time able to react fast enough

Oh geez!

>he'd summon Ragnarok and deflect the Keyblade with him, knocking the weapon up behind him

>he then sprung up to his feet and ran for Xion again, knowing he only had so much time before she summoned it back to defend herself again
>as Ragnarok disappeared from his hand, he reared a hand back, preparing his Soul Wavelength again
>while he could take plenty of damage and keep moving, he knew Xion wasn't so hardy - especially now that she was a human again and didn't have either vampire or werewolf genes to strengthen her
>as such, he couldn't go and use his heightened strength like he did with Dead, but he still had plenty of other ways to handle this

I'm not out of this yet!

>once he closed it on her, he would thrust a palm charged with his Wavelength at:

Roll 1d1000 = 472
>odds, her stomach, min damage
>evens, her chin, max damage

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840056

File: 1413096682854.png (45.42 KB, 222x192, Ah Maybe That's A Bit Much.PNG)


>Logically, when in a fight, throwing your weapon would be a really big misstep. Xion thought that maybe with Crona dazed she'd get a shot to put him at an even more unfit state.

>However, she underestimated how quickly Crona could recover.

>Or how hard he could hit.



>Xion flies back and crumples like a flour sack, stars exploded in her eyes and her jaw aching from the hit.

>She twitches and groans, then slowly rolls over as she grasps at the ground for some kind of bearing, black static once again flying off her coat from Crona's wavelength. He head tingles and burns unpleasantly from it, yet her brain felt okay.

>Soul attacks were weird.

>Her eyes are unfocused from the attack, the hit clearly having disoriented her for the moment.


Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840062

File: 1413097922066.png (90.03 KB, 155x286, Tell Me Your Secrets, Orange S…)

>Crona flinches as well once Xion lands, a fresh bit of regret ringing in him due to the hit he just landed
>granted, she was giving just as good as she got, but as he kept reminding himself, he could take it, while she wasn't as sturdy
>and now that she was prone on the concrete, the question was, what to do now?


>on the one hand, she had no qualms with attacking him while he was down, so maybe doing the same to her was alright?

>but then again, that last attack looked like it really hurt, so maybe she was willing to pack it in now?
>but if he showed any signs of going easy on her, then she'd get angry at him
>but he wasn't trying to disrespect her, but he didn't know what the boundaries were or what was going too far-


>he'd reach up and grab the sides of his head, clutching down on his hair and looking like he was on the verge of tearing it out

>this was a completely alien situation to him, and one he really should've been prepared for by now
>that didn't stop him from having no idea what to do, though

Roll 1d1000 = 367

>if first roll evens, he gives in and walks closer to Xion

She knows healing spells, and there's a trained medical staff here, she'll be fine...

>his Wavelength converting into strength again, he'd stop at her feet and bend down, grabbing her legs and tucking them under his arms

>he'd then haul her up by her legs and start spinning in place, spinning her around and around him in a circle, trying to further disorient her
>roll to escape


>if first roll odds, concern would outweigh everything else, and he'd soon call out to her with a worried voice


Are you alright? Did I hit you too hard there?

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840064

File: 1413098409756.png (41.12 KB, 500x295, A Super Sad Xion.png)


>Xion struggles to all fours and shakes her head, clearing the cobwebs as best as she can. The world spins but slowly begins to settle back, her vision summarily restoring. The only sore place physically was her chin, and yet her brain felt fuzzy and electrified still.

>Knowing she needed to move before Crona could press his advantage, she motivates herself as best as she can to move on. However, she pauses and frowns once she hears a familiar voice pass through her head.


>She squints and looks up, spying Crona's blurry form nearby.

>Roll 1d1000 = 982

>odds, as Crona predicted, after it registers he's standing there, an unmistakable look of disappointment passes across her face, and she looks down, clearly crushed.



>evens, she stares vaguely at him, then sits and rubs at her face

Nnngh, that soul stuff really hurts...!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840067

File: 1413099269523.png (67.48 KB, 244x273, I don't want to live on this p…)

>an immense sigh of relief would blow through Crona's mouth, both due to Xion being OK and that she wasn't mad at him for not continuing the fight
>he'd straighten up again and smile sheepishly, not knowing that Xion couldn't really see it right then

Well, I have to have something to hit you with...

>he starts to move forward to help her up, but stops after the first step

>if he kept pushing his luck like this, chances were she would get upset with him, as he wouldn't likely do this with any of his other opponents
>of course, she was a special case, but he had to keep pushing those thoughts back and focus on the actual fight
>as such, he'd suddenly break out into a run again, rushing right for Xion
>he'd then suddenly dash past her, stopping when he was behind her and spinning around
>he'd reach down and loop his hands under her arms, then start to focus his strength and lift her up
Roll 1d1000 = 887
>evens, tosses her right over his head and across the ring
>odds, failure up to you

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840069

File: 1413099829273.png (123.41 KB, 481x448, Bug In Back.PNG)



>Xion gasps and rolls, managing to push herself away from Crona's attempted snatch. Her pupils shrink for a moment, at first in shock, before she registers that they're still in a fight.

>She glares at the spot he stands in and takes a deep breath, her teeth grinding together only briefly.

>If he was going to play like that then she needed to get her head back in the game!
>A fire burns in her chest, her magic centralizing in her lungs as the words form at the tip of her tongue.

>She bellows in a voice louder and more powerful than what should be feasibly possible for her to make naturally, the volume enough to make the arena lightly tremble.


>Roll 1d1000 = 428 odds, Crona is slammed with Xion's Unrelenting Force shout, which hits him as hard as a wall would.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840073

File: 1413100203147.png (395.07 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h26m21s20…)

>Crona tenses up when he sees her rear back, realizing what was about to happen
>he had been waiting for this, and now he had to move fast to avoid the match-ender
>he leapt to the side as Xion's Shout flew by him, rolling along the concrete before stopping in a crouched position
>he'd been trying to keep this a close-range fight, but to no avail, as Xion kept pushing him further and further back
>so perhaps if he could make her come to him...
>his Wavelength still fueling his physical strength, he reared a hand back and balled it into a fist
>with a cry, he swung the fist down at the ring itself, causing a shockwave to fly out from where he struck the concrete
>roll to avoid

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840074


>Roll 1d1000 = 19 odds

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840075

File: 1413100643013.png (113.28 KB, 500x500, Don't Freaking Touch Me!.png)


>Her senses returning to her is what grants her the propensity to actually move when she needs. Xion's eyes widen, and with a kick from the ground she leaps over the shockwave. Her Keyblade flashes to her hand, landing heavily back to the arena's ring.

>Though even armed, her free hand presses to her head. Though Crona may not have been aware of it, that wavelength had done something to her equilibrium, making it difficult to see him from their distance, or even to stand fully straight.

>She wouldn't allow this issue take hold of her; she could still stand and that meant she could still fight!
>But with her shout exhausted for now, Xion opts back for her magical capability instead. She squints and swings her blade, pointing it at Crona's form fully.


>A large fireball whizzes for Crona, slightly bigger than a novelty beach ball and as fast as if it were fired from a cannon.

>Roll 1d1000 = 826 odds, hit

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840076

File: 1413101124577.png (367.75 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-17h03m53s39…)

>Crona again rolls to the side to avoid the large fireball send in his direction, the heel of his boot getting slightly singed as he passed it by
>in the process, he had moved a bit closer to where Xion was, but was still a good distance away from her, still in a crouching position
>now he got the idea to keep trying to disorient her, as that would make her more vulnerable to him tossing her harmlessly out of the ring and ending this fight
>as such, he reared a fist back and cried out again, slamming it down onto the concrete
>roll to avoid shockwave

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840077


>Roll 1d1000 = 23 odds

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840078

File: 1413101505294.jpg (108.56 KB, 500x547, Fire Blast!.jpg)



>The second cry tips Xion off much better than the first, her reaction becoming more sharp and confident than her first. Her landing after her timed jump is far less shaky, and her eyes clearer than before.

>She purses her lips, eyes narrowing at Crona very briefly before she once again levels her Keyblade right at him.

If you like the floor so much Crona, let me introduce you two!


>Roll 1d1000 = 991 odds, a dense magical ball slams into Crona, slamming him flat onto the ground.

>if hit, roll to escape the heavy pressure

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840080

File: 1413102042004.png (280.36 KB, 639x359, 069.png)

>much to Crona's chagrin, her following magical attack came from another angle, and before he could prepare to evade it, he was already smacked into the concrete ring


>his face hit the concrete directly, the impact definitely bruising him pretty hard

>he gripped down on the ring and lifted his head up, black blood dribbling down his nose as he attempted to push himself back up

I...don't think it...likes me very much...!

Roll 1d1000 = 367
>evens, with one powerful push, he's able to roll out from the gravity field, his heightened strength winning out this time
>odds, no such luck, Crona straining and grunting as he tries to get away, but remains trapped

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840081

File: 1413102300767.jpg (48.65 KB, 443x581, Coming for You Man!.jpg)


Well duh, that's what you get for hitting it so much!

>Xion runs at Crona, her footfalls rapidly approaching as she takes the Keyblade in both hands. The spell lasted very briefly, but enough to keep him solid on the ground to let her gear up for one attack.

>Just as she closes the distance, the gravity field lifts from Crona, though this happens the same moment Xion skids to a stop aside him, her Keyblade held high and blade flat.


>Roll 1d1000 = 689 odds, swings her Keyblade like a golf club, smacking Crona towards the edge of the ring with a swat

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840082

File: 1413102918836.png (244.67 KB, 639x359, 166.png)


>naturally, with no way to defend himself, Crona goes flying after the blow connects, sending him tumbling further back across the ring

>he'd skid to a halt near the ring's edge, which he quickly notices, seeing the dirt just below his head


>knowing that he was running out of options, he sat back up once again, but stopped in his tracks at the ringing sound still resounding in his ears

>just then, a pair of black arms burst out of his back and pushed off of the concrete, moving him back up to his feet independent of his will
>it was enough, though, as Ragnarok reappeared in his hand as he shook his head, trying to get his focus back, especially now that he was in such deep trouble

Come on, I can't give in now...!

>he reared Ragnarok back and swung upwards, sending another black energy wave in Xion's direction

>however, he wouldn't stop there, swinging back and forth repeatedly, throwing out more energy waves to knock her further back
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 329
>how many Roll 1d5 = 3

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840109

File: 1413145159702.jpg (65.47 KB, 426x400, A Nice Wink.jpg)



>In a flash of light an orb of semi-transparent magic solidifies around Xion just as the blasts bear down upon her, their hungry maws open as they shoot right at her.

>Yet once a slash of Crona's soul energy collides with the protective sphere, there's another flash of light as the magic absorbs the energy from the attack, removing its threat before it can touch Xion.
>The defensive spell gobbles each energy wave unyielding, and once it's finished, Xion smirks inside of her protective bubble and winks.

Nice try~!

>The bubble collapses, though aside her appear small beach-ball sized orbs of light made of the energy of the attack Crona had put inside of his own just moments ago.

>The orbs hover peacefully for a moment, then fire at Crona in tandem.

>Roll 1d1000 = 972 odds, hits Crona with Roll 1d3 = 2 orbs

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840113

File: 1413146099353.png (82.39 KB, 244x273, I saw what you did there and I…)

>Crona's teeth clenched in surprise when he saw Xion effortlessly absorb his attacks, and he quickly rolls forward to dodge the energy thrown back at him
>he was in a crouching position once again, his ears still ringing after the previous blow to the head, his vision slightly distorted as well
>even in his state, it was clear to him that he had to stop the long-distance game, as Xion was schooling him hard in that department, whereas he was able to catch her by surprise at close range
>his black blood wings burst out of his back and propel him forward, causing him to dash across the ring to close the gap between the two of them
>Ragnarok disappears from his hand again, and he rears the now-free hand back to thrust it at her once he was in range, his Soul Wavelength charging the thrust to the chest
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 757

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840116

File: 1413146407199.png (242.33 KB, 472x341, Gotta Ask Yourself_Do I Feel L…)


>Once again Xion dips into a dodge roll, quickly slipping to the left and under Crona's hand-thrust.

>With him hovering in the air, the spell jumps to Xion's mind, and she points her Keyblade at him with a jerk.


>Roll 1d1000 = 72 odds, Crona once again is slammed to the ground with a dense black orb of magic, pinning him down.

>if hit, roll to resist the gravity field.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840118

File: 1413146806857.png (188.25 KB, 853x480, vlcsnap-2011-11-01-16h29m37s20…)

>this time, Crona was able to react to the spell before it connected, zipping out from the spot where the field would descend
>he would fly around behind Xion, turning on a dime to head for her back, his palm aimed right at the center with his Wavelength pushing through again
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 718

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840119

File: 1413147108609.png (43.31 KB, 339x143, AUGHHHHH.PNG)



>Xion seizes up, a familiar painful sensation shooting through her body like an electric current.

>Thankfully it isn't as terrible as when it was focused on her head, though it makes it briefly hard to breathe, which in turn makes it almost impossible to speak.
>And, without an ability to speak, so too goes any opportunity to use her magic or shouts.


>With a wheeze and a tremble Xion grunts wheezily and grips her Keyblade tightly. Her teeth grind together as she struggles to keep standing, then with a growl, she takes the blade in both hands and swings around.

>Roll 1d1000 = 384 odds, smacks Crona with it like a baseball bat this time

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840130

File: 1413149514059.png (242.84 KB, 639x359, 045.png)

>Crona winced while ducking under the Keyblade swing, skidding to a halt a very short distance away from Xion
>he really hated hearing her scream like that, and it just made him want to end this all the sooner
>spinning around, he rushed at Xion and tried to grab her by the collar of her robe
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 994
>if successful, he then changes his Wavelength into strength again and spins, trying to judo flip her over his shoulder and across the ring
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 664

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840136

File: 1413150394950.png (348.62 KB, 570x423, DON'TMESSWITHMEMAN!.PNG)



>Xion sails through the air and tumbles, rolling dangerously close to the edge of the ring this time. Her breathing is ragged, her teeth grit and eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

>But she similarly doesn't seem to quit just yet, as she slowly pushes herself back up once more.

>"I'm reaching my limit...!"


>Xion wheezes as she manages to get back to all fours, yet if Crona notices, a yellow aura surrounds not only her Keyblade but also her own body.

>She forces herself to her feet, shoulders slumped and Keyblade held loosely in her hand.

>Then, with a flash of yellow, the aura grows stronger around her, her grip around her Keyblade similarly tightening. Xion looks up sharply and takes a breath, managing one simple phrase in a wheezy and raspy voice:


>She's more than aware she can't take much more of the punishment Crona is dishing off if she's pushed to her limit break, and he would have more time to prepare for this considering her distance.

>Yet Xion charges regardless at Crona and lifts her Keyblade, her eyes blazing a fiery blue.

>The Keyblade sings as it swings through the air, the aura strengthening as Xion closes the distance.

>Roll 1d1000 = 143 odds, Xion slams the Keyblade into Crona Roll 1d13 = 13 times with an unrelenting barrage of blows, powered by her Limit.

>If 10 or more land, Xion stops and draws her arms together, then shoots out pillars of blinding white light from herself as a finisher: Roll 1d1000 = 329 odds, hit

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840144

File: 1413151461491.png (249.59 KB, 639x359, 062.png)

>Crona took a few seconds to try and catch his breath after tossing Xion, his own energy running low after the frequent assaults to his head, his ears still ringing just a bit
>now it was becoming a matter of needing to end this if he actually wanted to win, not just to try and make sure Xion wasn't greviously injured
>with one more breath, he flapped his wings and started to fly after her again, his Wavelength charging up to hit her once more
>but as he dove for her, he briefly saw the yellow aura around her, and then heard her cry out


>having no way to alter his course so quickly, Crona would take the attack head-on - literally, the first blow connected right with his skull

>this seemed to dull the pain for him, if only because he was knocked senseless, but the continuing assault left no part of his body untouched, hanging in mid-air as he takes every single blow
>once it ends, he starts to fall to the concrete, his energy depleted, but he's then blasted all the way across the ring by a powerful burst of light, the force propelling him all the way to the other side
>he landed hard at the edge of the ring, one arm hanging limply off of it, his black blood wings dissolving soon afterwards
>the referee would lean forward to stare at the swordsman for a few seconds, waiting to see what would happen next


>after a few long minutes of tense silence, he would then lift his hand into the air

The winner of this bout is Xion!

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840145

File: 1413151904855.jpg (54.14 KB, 319x564, Brushing Close.JPG)


>The aura around Xion fades, her breath wheezy still and her shoulders drooped from the physically demanding attack she performed. She tugs at her collar briefly, but instead of walking off the stage, she walks forward to where Crona had collapsed and stops, hovering over him worriedly.

Gosh, maybe I overdid it...

>She lifts her Keyblade, not completely content to let the medics handle this, and intones with a tired sigh:


>Above them appears a yellow bell-like flower, the smell of mint accompanying a sprinkling of green magic which on contact soothes the injuries and fatigue caused from the hard battle.

>For Xion, her head clears up and her breathing comes easier, the magic washing away her exhaustion in a cool relaxing sensation.
>The magic would similarly cover Crona, to do the same for him as well.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840147

File: 1413152525026.png (183.94 KB, 501x312, OK, OK, You I Can Tolerate.png)

>the magic would wash over Crona uninterrupted, his bruising and possible broken bones healing over in no time
>it'd still take a few seconds for him to actually awaken after having been knocked out, breathing softly and looking very much like he was taking a nap right in front of her


>but, sure enough, he'd slowly open his eyes and give a small groan, starting to rouse himself once again

...wha' happened...?

>he'd lift his head up and blink a few times, his eyes drifting up to look at Xion


>he'd look surprised for just a moment, then sigh and give her a small smile before speaking in a teasing tone

You could've gone just a little easier on me, couldn't you?

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840148

File: 1413153051494.png (349.84 KB, 460x370, GoodPeopleAreHardToFindTheseDa…)


What do you think that first shock was?

>Xion extends her free hand down to help him up, wearing a small smile on her face. She looks down briefly, then back up to Crona and manages a small sigh.

...Thanks for giving me a good fight. That really means a lot to me, you know?

>She suspected that at first he had pulled his punches but towards the end his fighting had been more characteristic of him taking it seriously. Even if the attacks hurt, the fight alone was something she never would have thought Crona would willingly do, or at least something he wouldn't put as much effort into it.

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840149

File: 1413153859125.png (65.35 KB, 207x153, Just Focus On My Face And Not …)

>Crona gave a slight wince as he moved up to his feet, holding back the remark he was considering making

If that's what she considers going easy on me...

>just another reminder to never make her mad at him

>he smiles more genuinely after she thanks him, letting go of her hand to loosely wrap his arms around her waist

You're welcome, Xion. You put up a really good fight too, I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did.

I'm just sorry it took two years for this to come about...

Xion!.ZzGrellBs 840151

File: 1413154494627.jpg (92.55 KB, 423x750, Another Heart for My Collectio…)


>Xion gently directs Crona towards heading off the arena, knowing another fight needed to start soon.

>She smiles back at him and wraps an arm around his skinny waist and squeezes slightly to give him a gentle hug.

It's okay. C'mon, let's go get something to eat or something. My treat!

Crona Makenshi!pinkie78Os 840154

File: 1413155332584.jpg (13.45 KB, 320x180, The Smile.JPG)

>Crona gladly goes along with Xion, leaving an arm wrapped around her waist as he walked beside her

Sounds like a date~

>he'd lean slightly on her as they left the ring, though that was partially due to still feeling groggy after the fight

>he'd do his best to ignore the cheers and "woos" from the crowd as they left, which seemed to be both out of appreciation for the fight, and from how he and Xion were acting
>he also forced himself not to dwell on how disappointed his teammates would be now that he lost, which was more difficult than it seemed

Deadpony the internetless 840156

File: 1413155889560.jpg (39.33 KB, 460x345, image.jpg)

>of course when the time came, he woul find at least one of his team mates could care less about the crushing defeat. For siting in the waiting room beside a pile of tissues, the blue clad rep of Wayne Manor would be watching the monitor of the latest fight.

*sniff* though we have lost this clash of titans, take no harm from this. For today we are all winners. Today a greater force then any of us can comprehend has won this day. We are all spectators to the victory of that great powerful force, the appitamy of all we defenders of justice stand for. Love, has won this day.


File: 1413156492763.jpg (224.01 KB, 614x709, Zee_Captain_and_Mr__Snippy_by_…)

>Sheamus stretched in his hotel room

>Knowing audiences may get a bit upset if he started flinging their phones at the opponent that day, he opted to fill his large coat with tons and tons of TV parts he'd brought from home...and from the hotel itself

>He stopped himself before he exited the room, couldn't forget a good cup of coffee before the match. He poured it into his heart shaped mug, which somehow, despite it being the size of an average mug, managed to fit an entire pot of coffee within

>It was a wonder then, that no one noticed the bulges in his coat as he walked out of the hotel

> as he made his to the area the ring was, quite a few people were suspicious of this man, even more pondered how he'd been selected for this position on Po-koro's team

>He himself could only assume it was because of his peculiar power involving technology, but regardless of the reason he'd been selected for this, he was more than proud to represent his country and the NCR

>taking a sip from his coffee mug once he'd entered the ring, he hops a bit, the sound of TV parts in his coat shaking

Right then,let's get on with this.

Link!pinkie78Os 840167

File: 1413158382509.jpg (15.51 KB, 236x314, bff226b519c58d2eebbca1a7fa6054…)

>when Sheamus entered the ring, he found his opponent already standing across from him, staring silently at the man with a cold, hard look
>a longsword was embedded in the concrete before him, both hands resting on the hilt, prepared to pull it out at a moment's notice as he stared at his opponent


>he knew that the stakes for this battle were mighty indeed

>he not only represented the country of Gameindustri, but a legacy that had practically founded the country itself
>his was a lineage that stretched back eons, tales of his ancestors' doings being nothing less than legendary
>and despite disparaging comments about his nation's decline in state and ability, he knew it would last forever, for they had built something that had affected the lives of millions, and that could never cause them to fade from memory
>the pressure was on him, for sure, to win this battle and ensure his team's victory, and yet it did not phase him at all
>if anything, the pressure encouraged him, the challenge of winning another battle fueling his mind and exciting him


>yet, he showed and said nothing to express this

>he instead simply reached down and pulled his sword out of the ring, giving it a quick swing while pulling his shield off of his back, prepared for battle

Referee!pinkie78Os 840168

>the typical referee was once again present for the battle, only this time he was wearing a tan military outfit, a black wig plastered on his head and a pair of large, round shades over his eyes
>he spoke in a loud, commanding tone, not giving either fighter a moment to prepare

No more wasting time!

>he'd quickly point to Link

This is Link from Gameindustri!

>he'd then point to Sheamus

This is Sheamus Bertok from Po-Koro!

>he'd raise a hand and wave quickly

Both of you, fight!

Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Link goes first
>odds, Sheamus does


File: 1413159016694.jpg (68.07 KB, 900x598, zee_captain_by_pendragon_007-d…)

>Sheamus bows politely for a moment at the prepared and sturdy warrior

It's a pleasure Mr. Link, I do hope you put up a fair fight.

>He sipped a bit of coffee from his mug while twirling his finger a bit

>pieces of TVs slowly floated out from under his coat and reassembled into a single full and box TV

>He stops sipping his coffee, and flings the assembled TV towards Link

Roll 1d1000 = 536

Link!pinkie78Os 840176

File: 1413159684430.jpg (132.69 KB, 900x540, Link-the-legend-of-zelda-28515…)

>the warrior in green would tilt his head as Sheamus let the mechanical parts fly out and reassemble, not realizing what was happening
>it was too late when he figured things out, the TV flying across the ring and crashing into his face


>he reeled back a little bit from the hit, but otherwise remained steady, proving to be surprisingly sturdy

>he then reached back behind him, his hand somehow disappearing behind his back
>he would have to experiment with his arsenal to discover just what would be effective against this opponent
>as such, with one quick flinging motion of his own, he threw a boomerang at the NCR agent


>evens Roll 1d1000 = 12


File: 1413160177082.png (803.7 KB, 900x649, zee_captain_by_blade_da-d4re18…)


>Sheamus ducks thinking he could escape the boomerang, but he'd quickly stood back up...

>To be hit by the boomerang on it's return trip

>He stumbled over onto the ground, tv parts spilling out of his jacket

>He gasped in shock as he saw his mug falling, barely saving it.

It's not often you expect to see a boomerang used in a fighting tournament, then again I suppose the same could be said of televisions...

>he said to himself on the ground, before slowly getting up

>he assembled another Television from the parts now scattered around the ring and throws it towards Link...

Roll 1d1000 = 685

>...but mostly to serve as a distraction thrusted his mug towards Link in attempt to splash him with scalding hot coffee

Roll 1d1000 = 232

Link!pinkie78Os 840184

File: 1413161098145.png (399.23 KB, 1024x726, hyrule_warrior_by_enlightendsh…)

>Link was already running towards the NCR agent as the boomerang flew back at him, catching it and letting it disappear behind his back
>this time he was ready for the thrown TV, raising his shield up and blocking the blow, letting the appliance bounce off and land behind him
>however, as he lowered it, he would get a shot of hot coffee right on his chest



>he jumped back a bit and patted at his tunic, the liquid starting to burn his skin

>he'd pull at his tunic and wave it about, trying to get it to cool down quickly
>whoever this person was, they seemed to have no qualms with playing dirty
>which was enough to tell him that this person was what he could consider an "enemy"
>as such, he'd let out a determined shout and spin back around, aiming the flat of his sword at Sheamus's side
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 636


File: 1413161686062.png (217.27 KB, 480x720, 318cb8c7fb8e444efb89019ba41310…)


>An "Oomph" can be heard escaping Sheamus's lungs as he gets hit in the side by the flat of the Legendary Hero's blade

>He tumbles to the ground, and lays there sitting still for a few moments, briefly pondering if this man had any sort of technology he could exploit

>He couldn't and didn't, feel any of the sort as of yet, as if the man's arsenal was somehow hidden or guarded by something impenetrable by Sheamus's own means
>He remained on the ground laying as he thought and planned
>using his ability to put together several sets of TVs and jury rigging them together into a "TV chain" held together by their disassembled and reassembled power cords.

>he slowly gets up and takes a sip of whatever he has left of his coffee after splashing Link with it....and flings the TV chain towards Link

Roll 1d1000 = 820

Link!pinkie78Os 840203

File: 1413162696802.jpg (11.96 KB, 236x237, 544c02a4887d24508142282aa2c42b…)

>the Hero of Legends would see Sheamus readying his own weapon again to strike before he could do any more damage
>however, he stopped when he saw the strange chain of TVs assembling over his head, trying to process this new bit of information as it was happening
>unfortunately, this again left him open, the chain slamming into him and knocking him down


>he flopped onto the concrete, then rolled to the side to recover, already starting to get back up

>the problem with needing to plan on the fly was that he had a tendency to not get out of dodge as he did, but he had plenty of stamina to keep things going regardless
>in an instant, the boots he was wearing suddenly became covered in iron, his movements slowing as they did
>then, his gloves turned into steel gauntlets, both of his hands moving back to sheathe his sword and shield
>in the same movement, he pulled out a new weapon from behind - a large spiked ball and chain, which he immediately began to swing around over his head


>with another shout, he swung the weapon across the ring at Sheamus

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 792


File: 1413163598612.jpg (68.4 KB, 400x250, Digital_Artwork_Romantically_A…)


>Sheamus looks utterly confused at the sudden and quick transformation of Link's gauntlets and boots

>He stares in terror as the Hero swings the enormous ball and chain

...this is going to hurt isn't it?

>He asks, as soon the enormous ball is swung at him

>It quite easily knocks the wind out of him as he goes sliding across the ring after being hit
>he feels one of the spikes go into his side and feels a small bit of blood drip out
>he twitches on the ground and slowly lifts his head...

Roll 1d1000 = 497
>odds, and his cup has been smashed to bits in the entire proceedings of this
>If odds...
>he grips his hand tight into a fist and barely gets up onto his knees
>This...this MONSTER destroyed his favorite mugs, sure Sheamus's body was battered and beaten, but this Blonde haired man HAD TO PAY for what he'd done...
>The TV parts assemble together quicker than they had before, forming into a monolith of parts and plastic screens
>he caused it to float in the air momentarily before making fly towards Link
Roll 1d1000 = 210

>If first roll is evens...
>he rolls over on his back and lets out a sigh of relief, seeing his cup is intact

Hooph...hooph alright...that was something, ya know I don't think I can go on like this if you keep pulling tricks like THAT...

>he leans forward and weakly throws the TV chain he made before towards Link again

Roll 1d1000 = 340

Link!pinkie78Os 840261

File: 1413164825082.jpg (79.55 KB, 723x600, zelda-link-skyward-swordthe-le…)

>Link continued to swing the ball over his head after Sheamus fell, keeping the momentum going in case he needed to hit him again
>unfortunately for Hyrule's silent protagonist, his attack had served to anger the NCR agent more than hurt him, and as a result, he had a massive combination of metal and wiring and glass thrown in his direction



>the impact sends him flying back across the ring, tumbling along the concrete and halting far away from the man

>he'd groan and push himself up to his feet once more, his ball, gauntlets, and boots all disappearing in the process
>he looked up at the monolith, believing that he needed to destroy that if he wanted to defeat Sheamus
>as such, he stood up once more, then reached back and pulled out a simple bomb, throwing it at the creation


>evens Roll 1d1000 = 907


File: 1413165292783.jpg (49.32 KB, 851x315, 703909_235646409898651_1524088…)


>Sheamus stares at Link as he throws the bomb and quickly floats the monolithic television fusion out of the way of the bomb

>This man thought he could get off with one hit, with only being hit once by the creation of Sheamus's anguish over his only loved item being destroyed? Oh no, he had quite another this coming

Yo...you'll know the pain of man who loses his mug!

>Despite the pain of getting up to his feet, Sheamus manages to, and he floats two of the tvs from the monolithic creation onto his hands to form "Boxing gloves", before he hurls the gigantic item towards Link again

Roll 1d1000 = 717

>If he's successful he rushes forward and follows up the hit from the monolith with a pair of jab punches

Roll 1d1000 = 28
Roll 1d1000 = 230
>Evens both punches

Link!pinkie78Os 840284

File: 1413165921393.jpg (74.65 KB, 1024x853, Link-the-legend-of-zelda-10708…)

>this time, Link was ready for the attack, leaping up into the air before the monolith could hit him
>he landed on top of the creation and quickly dropped down, gripping down on some wires to keep a handhold on it
>once secure, he'd lift his free hand and draw his sword again, before trying to plunge it down at the monolith to begin destroying it
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 512
>how many stabs Roll 1d10 = 8
>either way, roll to shake Link off


File: 1413166315778.jpg (82.49 KB, 400x250, Digital_Artwork_Romantically_A…)


>Sheamus stares somewhat in awe as he sees his opponent leap over the massive structure

>he had to ponder how the man could leap that high...

>and ends up distracted as Link starts slicing the Monolith to pieces

>he slices enough off for it to be a shadow of it's previous height and danger, but never the less, Sheamus still tries to shake Link off of what he has left of it
Roll 1d1000 = 380

>if he's successful in shaking Link off, he lumbers forward and tries to punch the hero

Roll 1d1000 = 830

>if his punch misses, he lets out a heavy breath and falls back onto his knees, it was obvious the ball and chain from before hurt him much more than it seemed

Link!pinkie78Os 840314

File: 1413167178070.jpg (72.81 KB, 900x803, Link-the-legend-of-zelda-25925…)

>Link manages to keep his grip tight on the construct, despite Sheamus shaking it all around to try and eject him
>thinking quickly, he'd pull out another bomb and shove it into an opening on the creation, having almost completely dismembered it in his rapid assault
>he'd then leap off of the monolith, his boots changing again in mid-jump, gaining a golden metal on them with wing designs, his descent slowing as a result
>roll to shake off the bomb
>regardless, he fell towards Sheamus, and once he got close enough, swung a foot up at his chin
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 170


File: 1413167586872.jpg (204.89 KB, 800x600, zee_captain_wants_nuka_by_pota…)


>As Sheamus got kicked in the chin, he sailed through the air for a brief moment or two before falling down

>He tries to shake the bomb off of his monolithic structure, but all the pain was finally catching up to him

>He'd be unable to shake the bomb off regardless of his currently feeble attempts, his creation would ultimately be destroyed...

>Lifting his head up form the spot her lay on the ground, he held his fists up, throwing the TVs on his hands towards Link in an act of desperation

Roll 1d1000 = 600
Roll 1d1000 = 476
>both evens

>If both fail, he lays his head down and lets out a heavy breath before passing out from exhaustion

Link!pinkie78Os 840339

File: 1413168298494.jpg (67.83 KB, 250x292, tumblr_my8m7rmjwE1qhnxbro1_250…)

>Link's descent was almost complete, still hovering in the air just in front of Sheamus
>but as a result, he was much easier to knock around, and once the two TVs smashed into him, he quickly went flying far away from him


>Link would tumble along the concrete once more, falling awkwardly and stopping much further away from Sheamus than he did last time

>this time he only stops at the ring's edge, his limbs twitching enough to show that he was still conscious, but it'd take a little longer for him to get back up


File: 1413168582102.jpg (33.74 KB, 700x700, zeecaptain4.jpg)


>Sheamus leans part way up from the place he laid

H..ha! I...knew something would work

>He said giving heavy breaths

>He had to take this chance, he knew if he didn't end it now, one more hint from Link and it'd be all over

>lifting the tvs he threw with his power again

>He throws them at Link again

Roll 1d1000 = 781

Roll 1d1000 = 208
>if hit, evens knocks out of the ring

Link!pinkie78Os 840355

File: 1413169104260.jpg (15.6 KB, 200x208, c5ef25fecda66958aa56750c97471c…)

>Link would eventually make it back up to his feet, swaying a bit as he moved, apparently still groggy from the double attack
>thankfully, he was able to see Sheamus preparing for one more attack, and rolled forward before the TV could nail him, instead sailing over him effortlessly
>he would stand back up and draw his sword again, holding it up with the tip pointed skyward
>Sheamus would see energy then build up around the sword, the blade lightly glowing with white light


>with another cry, the Hyrulian warrior would swing his sword down, a bluish-white energy wave flying off of his blade and moving towards Sheamus

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 452


File: 1413169267805.jpg (33.74 KB, 700x700, zeecaptain4.jpg)


>Sheamus is knocked back down to the ground roughly by the energy flung from the Master sword

>His hat flown off and the strange breath mask her wore slightly damaged

>As for the man himself, he was breathing, but otherwise completely unconscious

Link!pinkie78Os 840377

File: 1413169993826.jpg (74.83 KB, 640x640, 8c3ff38f94ae57d09315c1d015335d…)

>the always-unusually-dressed referee would raise his hand at this point and shout out

The winner is Link!

>letting out a light "whew", the Hylian would straighten back up and sheathe his weapons, a look of relief on his face

>what a battle! It was truly an exhilerating experience, just about on par with some of his greatest victories
>and his opponent, while odd, was no slouch at all, a strong representative of his native country, and worthy of all the praise he received
>and how wonderful it felt to hear the roar of the crowd all around him, applauding and cheering for him because of his bravery
>he felt proud of himself as well, and would love to be able to thank the audience and his opponent in turn


>but instead, he says nothing

>instead, he turns to the crowd and gives a deep bow, before turning to his opponent and doing the same
>he would then turn and make his exit, getting himself out of the way so people could prepare for the next fight

!MEOWKdWFcQ 841479

File: 1413424896557.jpg (24.14 KB, 334x320, ss+(2014-10-15+at+05.55.08).jp…)

>another challenger entered the ring. A young, blonde haired boy with a constant blush.

>ever since the events at Honnouji, he had gotten a new uniform, this one far more advanced. A white vest with a pocket watch in his breast pocket, a long flowing cape with a wing pattern, and a pair of falconer gloves on each hand, and finally, on the back of the cape where 3 stars.

>he looked to the stands, watching him there was a trio of birds, Cockatiels to be precise, Edgar, Allen, and Poe... Without them watching, he couldn't bare to enter the ring; the crowd all watching him made his stomach feel tight and his heart heavy.

>silently, the young bird watcher awaited his opponent.


File: 1413426346201.jpg (6.87 KB, 163x310, images (7).jpg)

>The boy's opponent seems completely different than the woman who represented Shinra in the last round.

>For one, it almost seems like he's going to be a no-show before he finally makes a slow swagger out of the gate and up to the ring.

>Beyond that, while he's wearing the same style of suit, he obviously takes a much more casual approach to the dress code. Not only is his tie missing, its hard to tell if his hair is styled to look messy on purpose, or if its just normally like that.

>Speaking of his hair, its vibrant red, and while less of note in this mixed up world, it does give him a punkish look.

"Huh, looks like you've got a bunch of chicks cheering you on, so you better be able to put up a bit of a fight, yo."

>Even his way of speaking seems a bit...sloppy.

>Though whether that's a trick to throw his opponent off guard or not, remains to be seen. In any case, only someone intimately familiar with the Turk's hierarchy would even begin to think the man was one of their top ranking members from how he acts, tapping his extendable baton on his shoulder ;azily as he waits for the battle to start.

Referee!pinkie78Os 841501

>the referee was once again present in the ring, but once again looked very different from his previous appearance
>he now had a blond mustache that stretched down to his chin, and was wearing a red bandana that covered his whole head
>besides that, he seemed to be wearing little clothing, just a bright yellow set of trunks and boots
>that is, save for the obviously-fake muscle suit that made up his entire body
>and when he spoke, he spoke in a rather gruff voice, but with boundless amounts of energy behind it

Well ya know somethin', dudes?! This match is gonna be the biggest of all time, brother! You might've seen some crazy bouts before now, but I can promise you all, you ain't seen nothin' yet!

>he swings his arm out dramatically and points to the blond boy

In this corner, we got the bird-watching kid from Honnouji Academy, Nymph Holland!

>he then swings his arm around and points dramatically to Reno

And in this corner, we got the wild redheaded Turk from Shinra, Reno!

>he swings his arm upwards and points dramatically at the sky

Now, Silver City!

Whatcha gonna do when these two titans of terror run wild on you?!


Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Nymph goes first
>odds, Reno does

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841515

File: 1413427656182.jpg (32.05 KB, 301x355, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.28.32).jp…)

Hm... Funny...

>he took a deep breath, trying to control his breathing. He ate a good meal before hand, so he won't be throwing up in the middle of the fight, despite his nervousness.

>he looks to the sky, watching a flock of birds fly over head.

My friends are watching, I won't lose.

>red letters suddenly appear behind the boy when his name is called
>the stars on his cape shined, his outfit began to morph and change. Red claws grew from his glove's fingertips and red feathers appeared along side his wrists. His boots morphed to resembled a pair of red bird talons. His cape glowed bright and turned into a large pair of eagle like wings.
>he placed on a pair of goggles and took off to the skies, flying lower to the ground to make it a fair fight, but not before firing a few feather bullets at his opponent.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 809

>how many hit Roll 1d8 = 6


File: 1413428625211.jpg (17.88 KB, 446x339, BeforeCrisisRenoRude.jpg)

>The man darts to the side suddenly, weaving through and dodging the "bullets" in the process.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I'd heard you guys had special gear, but I didn't think they were gonna be that crazy."

>As he's saying this, he's continuing to circle, before darting in and swiping upwards at the winged boy with his baton as he gets close.

>Roll 1d1000 = 750 Odds hit, Dub or Trip odds, Reno pushes a button on his baton as it connects, sending a jolt of electricity at the boy to go along with the blunt force of the blow.

>Regardless of if the blow hits or not, he attempts to dart back afterwards.

>Roll 1d1000 = 875

>Anything but trip evens, he darts back out of point blank range after his strike is complete. Trip evens, he actually trips over his own feet and tumbles back onto his rear end.

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841525

File: 1413429012026.jpg (37.43 KB, 200x275, 41614.jpg)

>Nymph's rings move out in front of him, acting as a shield.


>as the man gets away, he swoomps down and attempts to kick him in the chest

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 508

>if successful, he lands on his feet and goes for a swipe with his claws

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 762


File: 1413429964881.jpg (11.08 KB, 608x336, 120.jpg)


>The kick to the chest seems to take the wind out of Reno's sails. Also out of his lungs.

>Leaving him unprepared for the slashing claws, which cut at his arms as he's stumbling back in pain.

"Hey, that hurt! If you're gonna fight like that, I guess its fine if I get a little rough on ya...see how you like it."

>And with that he suddenly lurches forwards and swats at Nymph with the extending baton.

>Roll 1d1000 = 757 Odds, it hits, an electric jolt passing through the metal tip as it connects.

>If successful, he then swings out a foot to try and kick the boy in the side.

>Roll 1d1000 = 446 Odds.

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841527

File: 1413430232656.jpg (36.05 KB, 371x330, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.28.18).jp…)

>Electric Type > Flying Type

>Nymph convulses at the shock, yelping in pain. But he manages to leap back and cross his wings in front of him to protect him.

>"It's a tournament, isn't rough how it should be? That's how it is, isn't it?"

>he spread his wings out and flapped them, creating a gust to hopefully knock Reno down

>evens, it is strong enough to make him fall down. Roll 1d1000 = 987


File: 1413430986450.jpg (14.96 KB, 236x321, 10aaccefbfd4964bc75361ba2d2ab9…)

>Reno crosses his arms in front of himself and digs in his heels as he gust of wind blasts at him, getting pushed back a little from the force of the wind, but still holding his ground.

"Hey, you gonna just fly away again? How about ya stay down here and fight on my level, huh? Or do I gotta make ya?"

>The man suddenly lashes out with his baton, aiming a crushing blow for Holland's side...or more his right wing in particular.

>Roll 1d1000 = 442 Odds, hit.

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841533

File: 1413433014179.jpg (13.58 KB, 188x194, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.30.18).jp…)

>Nymph dodges out of the way, moving through the air with the skill of a bird

I prefer the air...

>he held his arm out at him and fired 5 feather arrows at Reno

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 2


File: 1413434432533.gif (1.69 MB, 500x200, tumblr_n758uf9d9l1rk4j5yo2_r2_…)

>And now he's being fired at again.

>Seriously this is not his day.

>He keeps from being impaled at least, but seriously, that hurts. Its like a bunch of paper cuts except they're actually more like real cuts.

"Jeeze, aren't you at least supposed to pretend to fight fair?"

>This coming from the guy with a taser baton.

"Well, I guess if you're gonna just be a chicken about it, I'll just have ta fry those wings of yours."

>He pauses before pointing his baton up at the winged boy.


>Roll 1d1000 = 398 Evens, a glow of light flashes from below, moments before a bolt of magical lightning strikes the boy from above. (Hit)

>Odds...nothing happens, and Reno just stands there for a few moments before rustling around in his pockets as if trying to find something. (Miss)

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841539

File: 1413434929920.jpg (32.05 KB, 301x355, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.28.32).jp…)

>"Fair, unfair? What's he talking about?"

>Nymph pondered his opponents words. It was a fight, everything is fair in love and war, he should figure out a way to counter his flight.

>but at he ponders, the next attack catches him by surprise, shocking him and sending him to the ground.

>"What was that about not playing fair?!"

>his wings folded up on his back, as Nymph went in for a kick to Reno's gut

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 69


File: 1413436107335.jpg (8.31 KB, 295x171, kick.jpg)

"Haha, gotcha!"

>Reno smirks for a moment as the boy falls out of the air.

>And then barely has time to swing his torso out of the way of the kick, launching a kick of his own at Nymphs head in the process.

>Roll 1d1000 = 646 Evens, hit.


"Hey, isn't it so much better this way anyways, I mean sure, taking potshots at me from way up there seems like it works out pretty well for ya, but really, don'cha think thats a pretty lame way to represent your team? Are you tryin' to make em look bad or somethin'?"

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841541

File: 1413437677942.jpg (36.05 KB, 371x330, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.28.18).jp…)


>the resulting kick manages to give Nymph a bloody nose. Despite his pain and his bloody face, he responds with a quiet:


>he flopped to the ground, before getting back up.

>Nymph frowned, still as cold as he's always been

...I prefer the air... All is fair in a fight.

>he sighed

But if you want to play it that way...

>the wings on his outfit disappeared, as the claws and feathers on his arms grew. His boots shifted as well, taking on the appearance of a Roadrunner's talons.

>Eccentially, Nymph had done away wtih hs wings, in exchange for attack power.

I don't like being clipped like this...
Alternate Form: Flightless King
>with his knee form change, he struck out at Reno with a punch.
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 241

>if successful, follows up with a knee strike

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 367


File: 1413438747011.jpg (23.96 KB, 350x299, 2006729141755_reno ff.jpg)

>The Turk swings to the side of the punch, sticking out his tongue as he does so.

"Wow, you're even freakier looking than that guy on our team. Though, if you're your team's secret weapon..."

>Once again the rod lashes out, aimed at Nymph's side.

>Roll 1d1000 = 744 Evens, hits, though it seems Reno isn't using the electric function.

>If the attack hits,

"Well, I doubt your team's gonna get very far. Hey, at least you've got enough guts to actually face me though so I guess you're not a total waste."

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841546

File: 1413439127295.jpg (37.43 KB, 200x275, 41614.jpg)

>unfortunately for Nymph, he had no wings to brace the impact, if he had them he might've had to agility to dodge.

>he stumbled at the edge of the ring, stunned and in pain from the shocks


File: 1413440241301.gif (998.47 KB, 500x234, tumblr_madsmgjuNS1rza9b3o1_500…)

>Reno pauses for a moment before making his way over.

"So hey, I'm not going to say thanks for the good fight, cause lets face it, it really wasn't. I mean, dodging bullets isn't really what I call a good time, and you're kind of a wuss up close and personal, I mean, I'm not even sure why you're here, if its out of pride for your country you're pretty good at hidin' it."

>His grip tightens on the baton in his hands, and his arm tenses.

"But hey, at least you didn't just fly away again, so tell you what, I'll make it easy on you, a quick and well, mostly painless loss right here."

>And with that, he makes another swipe with his baton in an attempt to stagger the boy.

>Roll 1d1000 = 814 Evens for hit.

>If hit, Roll 1d1000 = 514 Evens, the baton swipe is immediately followed by a forceful kick to the gut knocking Nymph out of the ring.

Nymph Holland!MEOWKdWFcQ 841548

File: 1413440434162.jpg (36.05 KB, 371x330, ss+(2014-10-15+at+06.28.18).jp…)

>and as simple as that, Nymph is staggered out of the ring, his uniform fading away. Even with his new uniform, he failed... He thought to himself, "If I had my wings, I would've won."

>but, all in all, he felt as though it didn't matter. Just a game, all is fair, nothing of value was lost; carefree just like a bird.

>his three friends flew down from the stands and handed on his chest

...Heh... Let's go, my friends...

Referee!pinkie78Os 841549

>the blond-mustached muscle-man of a referee would wait for Nymph to fall outside of the boundaires of the ring, he'd whip a hand up and point at Reno

Congratulations, dude!

The winner of this fight is Reno of Shinra!


File: 1413443333244.gif (494.21 KB, 500x500, tumblr_lp646rjelp1qgoweao1_500…)

>See, he didn't even seem that broken up about it. Then again, from the sounds of it most of the contestants so far weren't that fired up about it all.

>"Just a game or something to them, huh?"

>But then the results are announced and the overenthusiastic referee was calling out to him.

>The Turk sheaths his baton and then stretches his arms before lazily resting them behind his head.

"Hey, I hope you still have that amount of energy once I have a fight thats actually worth getting all worked up about. Cause if you thought this was exciting, well, ya haven't seen nothin' yet."

And with that he turns and lazily saunters out of the ring as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841937

File: 1413505637785.jpg (429.97 KB, 728x1067, Alpha17-FF136.jpg)

>It appeared it was Adler's turn now. Maybe he could make up for his colleague's defeat this round.
>The ranger approached the ring, clad in his HM-25 pattern armor. Kitted out with a few weapons and a repulsorlift pack on his back.
>Alder came to the ring's center, patiently awaiting his adversary to join him. If he won or not, he was still representing Kameria, so Alder kept his helmet off and a solid yet not unfriendly expression.
>Kamerians were good sports, right? Now was the time to show that.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 841940

File: 1413505831334.gif (83.01 KB, 310x412, Bodyshot.gif)

>And standing opposite him, was a young man with a heavily disinterested expression on his face. He was clutching two knives in a reverse grip and nothing else, clearly confident that he wouldn't need anything else.

>He looks over at his opponent, his eyes scanning him for...anything. He didn't glean much, he didn't know much about Kameria after all...Well, now would be a good time to learn. He inclines his head slightly, but doesn't say any more.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841943

File: 1413506302200.jpg (167.72 KB, 540x720, DHS-_Temuera_Morrison.jpg)

>Ah, there he was. By the look on his face, this young man wanted to be anywhere but in this arena. Does he feel unwelcome?
>Perhaps he should "Melt the ice" as they say here? Adler approached Arcei and extended a hand, a smile overcoming his often stolid expression.

"May ze best man win."

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 841946

File: 1413506672836.jpg (491.84 KB, 1500x1783, Iamsleepingherenow.jpg)

>One of the knives vanishes up his sleeve as he shakes the extended hand

Yeah, same to you.

>He still seemed impassive and not quite interested in the fight, but hey! He was making an attempt at politeness.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841947

File: 1413507057861.jpg (159.33 KB, 940x1240, tumblr_mo56ap4LbN1s6zihxo1_128…)

>With the handshake over, it was time to get down to business.
>Adler began to pull his helmet on as he spoke to the assassin before him.

"Sank you. I look forvard to seeing vhat you're capable of!"

>Adler flipped a switch on the helmet and the Heads-Up Display came to life. Booting up in record time, just as Holtmetall designed it to.

>He felt for his plasma pistols on his hips, the two of them being approved for the tournament after being modified to only shoot in stun mode.
>The plasma would sting like a bad curry downed with some Jack Daniels, but it certainly wouldn't kill. Same with all his arms today.

Referee!pinkie78Os 841956

>once again, the same referee was present for the bout, wearing a more modest uniform than he'd worn previously
>the all-white jumpsuit was a bit unusual, but for him it was practically normal
>he spoke in a snide, whiny voice, almost like a petulant child who always got what they wanted without question

Alright, let's get this show on the road! Even though the only reason you guys are watching is because of me!

>he lifted a hand and gestured towards Adler

The geek in the Cylon outfit is...VAk Trooper 1138 Alder from Kameria.

>he'd turn to Adler and then shout at the top of his lungs


>he'd then turn and point at Arcei

And the emo over here is Arcei Erster from Vescaria.

>he'd give a derisive snort, then lift his hand

Now beat each other up already!

Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Adler goes first
>odds, Arcei does

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 841960

File: 1413509188605.png (617.81 KB, 1000x1000, Zappyzap.png)

>Arcei doesn't bother to respond to the referee, and leaps away from the Trooper, immediately throwing one of his daggers at him, the dagger sails through the air at alarming speeds and when it got close enough to Alder, he'd notice that the dagger was covered in lightning, enough to give him a nasty shock should it connect.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 204

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841962

File: 1413509597746.jpg (13.59 KB, 298x396, 298px-ARCTrooper1-SOTF.jpg)

>Adler wouldn't even blink as the petulant referee yelled in his face. No time for that sort of thing when

>Young men were throwing electrified daggers at him. Adler ducked the knife and then jumped up, using a burst from his rep-lift pack to jump into the air towards his opponent, firing off his plasma pistols all the way.

Roll 1d1000 = 928 odds, and Roll 1d5 = 3 hit

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 841965

File: 1413509930523.png (125.79 KB, 500x496, Dash.png)

>Arcei shifts out of the way of the plasma fire gracefully, like some kind of elegant dance as the blasts sail past his thin limbs. The electrified dagger that he'd thrown clatters against the arena floor, but it would not remain there for long, as Arcei's hand suddenly sparks with electricity. The dagger seemingly reacts to the presence and is drawn back to the young man's hand, the same electrical aura surrounding it as before

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 910

>And as the dagger sailed back towards his hand, Arcei shifts his body slightly, gaining enough momentum to sail towards Alder, aiming a kick at the man's head.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 645

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841966

File: 1413510317747.jpg (105.43 KB, 500x539, tumblr_m8wl2mKax91qaum41o1_500…)

>Adler took that kick like a champ. Adler landed in a crouch on the arena floor, only to turn around and replift boost towards Arcei again, looking to whip him in the head with the handle of one of his pistols.

Roll 1d1000 = 710 evens

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 841971

File: 1413510969660.png (1.19 MB, 960x735, Chargedup.png)

>And then the guy whapped him in the face with the pistol. Arcei's head snaps back as he tumbles to the ground, he wasn't actually designed to take much punishment, let alone stay in the air for long.

>He recovers quickly however, drawing himself back to his feet. Looking back at his opponent, Arcei grits his teeth and grips his daggers tightly, one of them vanishes up his sleeve as he points a finger at Adler. At the end of his finger, a small ball of blue electricity grows in size until it reaches about the size of a tennis ball, at which point, he fires it at the armoured trooper.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 959

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 841974

File: 1413511571615.jpg (220.5 KB, 794x1613, arc_trooper_by_nd_2500-d6fweoo…)

>The sock meets it's mark, wracking Adler's body with the sort of pain he hadn't felt since that incident in training where someone accidentally pulled the pin on a sock grenade in the mess hall.
>There was certainly more to this kid than meets the eye, but would it be enough for him to win?
>As painful as it was, Alder's training kicked in and he began to raise a pistol towards his opponent, every muscle screaming for him to put it down.

Roll 1d1000 = 272 odds:
>Somehow, despite the pain, Adler manages to hit his opponent

>Nope. Alder had to put his arm down right before he managed to squeeze the trigger.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842004

File: 1413513833231.jpg (466.44 KB, 590x874, Shocking.jpg)

>Noticing that the man no longer had the strength to lift his weapon, Arcei smiles slightly. He'd got him now. The second dagger reappears in his hands as he hurls them both towards Adler...And yet not AT him.

>The daggers strike the ground quite neatly either side of him and remain standing up, some sparks of electricity still remaining around the weapons. The small flickers of electricity seem to jolt in tandem with the young man's hands as he holds them forward, lining them up with both the daggers.

>With scarcely a battle cry or anything more than a light exhale, the crackling electricity suddenly bursts forwards, the connecting beam from his hands to the knives causing a much larger scale discharge in the area around them.

>Of course, it was still low enough to be non-lethal, but it would hurt like a bastard, and that was if it hit...

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 427

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842006

File: 1413514194321.jpg (234.77 KB, 672x1000, arc_attack_by_krad_eelav-d4pe8…)

>Zum Donnerwetter auch. Right when he thought he was done with the electroshocks, the guy comes along with a whole 'nother wave of them.
>Adler fell to his knees at this point, half growling, half screaming in pain. However, his falling to hands and knees put him in the perfect position for a counter attack.
>He reached for a stun grenade on his leg, falling on that side without the arm's support. He pulled the pin on a protrusion of his leg armor and let himself fall, making it look like he fell out on that side, when really he was rolling a grenade at Arcei.

Roll 1d1000 = 23 evens

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842014

File: 1413515053589.jpg (60.27 KB, 308x378, Headshot.jpg)

>Arcei charges forward, his hand sparking with the same electricity as before...and yet the daggers did not respond. He clucks his tongue, the magic enchanting them must have already ran out, that would be tricky to deal with.

>As he runs forward at the fallen man, ready to either throw him out or make him unable to move, he notices something rolling on the ground. Arcei continues running forward, but leaps over the item on the floor, best not to trust anything you've not seen until now in a fight.

>His flying leap takes him near to Adler as he lands, Arcei leans forward, not quite willing to attack a man on the floor, yet still not brazen enough to invite an attack from him.

...After all that electricity, you can't be feeling at your best. I'll think no less of you if you yield.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842211

File: 1413590902974.jpg (193.15 KB, 715x1075, tumblr_nbrt5u3EJn1rjabiuo1_128…)

>Yield? When he was representing the Kamerian Ranger Corps, hell, the entirety of Kameria in front of the whole world?
>Slowly, shakily, the VAk Trooper came to his feet. Pistols raised at his opponent as his repulsorlift pack brought him into the air above his opponent.

Roll 1d1000 = 280 odds, Roll 1d5 = 5 shots hit.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842222

File: 1413593307266.png (72.41 KB, 1280x736, Running.png)

>Arcei sighed. Well, he couldn't say he hadn't tried to offer a way out. As the man jettisoned into the air, Arcei looks back at his daggers and decides to leave them there. He wouldn't need uncharged daggers, and recharging them now would take too much time.

>The youth leapts into the air, dodging the plasma shots with as much grace and elegance as he had before as he swung his body around to deliver a kick to Adler's head, the kick charged with a small amount of electricity, enough to numb the area should it hit on top of the impact of the kick.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 826

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842223

File: 1413593464292.jpg (13.59 KB, 298x396, 298px-ARCTrooper1-SOTF.jpg)

>Despite his dazed state, Adler managed to strafe away from the electrokick and send a few plasma shots after his opponent as he returned to the ground.

Roll 1d1000 = 875 odds, Roll 1d3 = 1 hit.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842225

File: 1413594007902.jpg (294.84 KB, 787x1165, Bizzap.jpg)

>He whiffed the kick. No problem, he could just continue on with the-AUGH

>One of the plasma shots, despite the shaky aim, managed to impact against him, Arcei sails through the air, only barely managing to right himself in time for a landing. That stung. Roughly the same as the shocks he'd administered to the trooper...Still, he could take a couple more of those...He'd been pretty lucky in regards to hits lately.

>Once again, he points his finger at Adler, another ball of lightning appearing at the end of it...Though this time, he raises a second finger, a ball of lightning appearing at the end in kind. Both of them raise to about the size of tennis balls before Arcei fires them both at Adler.

> First shot, Odds Roll 1d1000 = 416

>Second shot, Odds Roll 1d1000 = 227

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842257

File: 1413598420851.jpg (118.04 KB, 720x960, 4ed8bb694910140efa55f7a79a8b95…)

>Once again, Adler strafed away from one shock ball, only to dodge right into the second ball coming towards him.
>The Ranger's body was again wracked with debilitating pain, the shock also managing to briefly short Adler's replift pack out.
>Finding himself on the ground and away from the shocks, VAk 1138 found himself in the perfect position to perform a leg sweep on his foe, aiming for the back of his knees.

Roll 1d1000 = 817 odds

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842273

File: 1413600315141.jpg (463.16 KB, 1181x800, Glowingeyes.jpg)

>Well, one hit, good enough for him.

>When the guy makes it back to the ground, the leg sweep came out too fast for Arcei to block and his legs buckle. Forced onto one leg, the Vescarian looks up at Adler for a split second before he seems to vanish from sight.

>Not a second after, he reappears behind the man and reaches out a hand to grab the man's shoulder.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 384

>If successful, once he makes contact with the suit, he sends a powerful jolt of electricity through it, using the metal as a conductor for the current.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842497

File: 1413660788721.jpg (159.33 KB, 940x1240, tumblr_mo56ap4LbN1s6zihxo1_128…)

>The shocks spark all around the Kamerian, but given that the part of his armor that the Vescarian was touching was made of a reinforced plastic-ceramic alloy, which is to say, a non-conducive material, Adler was largely unharmed by the electricity surrounding him.
>Looking the boy dead in the eyes as the shocks came to a stop, Adler reared his head back to slam his armored forehead into the mage's nose.

Roll 1d1000 = 364 odds

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842499

File: 1413662803811.png (474.33 KB, 600x800, Resting.png)

>...An insulator?


>As the man rears back his head, thousands of thoughts whirled around Arcei's head. He needed to get away from this...He couldn't block the hit, he wasn't built for it, and he was in far too close quarters to dodge without punishment...

>Time for another flash then.

>Just before the headbutt impacts against the Vescarian youth, he vanishes again, this time further away, right next to his daggers. Arcei breathes heavily, a hand against his chest as he tried to regain his composure, no attack for the moment, he merely kept his gaze locked onto Adler.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842500

File: 1413663630679.jpg (234.77 KB, 672x1000, arc_attack_by_krad_eelav-d4pe8…)

>Adler felt his head impact against... nothing. A teleporter, eh? Adler, drew his pistols again and got a quick 360 degree scan of the arena, maybe a bit slower than is his ears weren't still ringing from those shocks.
>The boy wasn't moving. That probably meant that he had a plan to put into action once the VAk Trooper made a move.
>Adler stood there, pistols drawn on the boy and trying to stare him down.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842501

File: 1413663916778.gif (144.21 KB, 1752x2471, Monochrome.gif)

>Arcei manages to stabilise his breathing and he stood...well, as tall as the young man could get as he weighed his options.

>Temporal magic was not only hard, it was costly, he didn't have many more of those jumps left in him and that was discounting the fact that he had to try to actually attack the guy.

>Close combat was not his speciality, but if he could maintain a hit and run type approach to the combat, he could avoid getting punched out.

>Arcei charges the trooper once more, no electricity surrounding his body this time, just his fists and the strength behind them, as he moves into range of the man, he launches a small but fast fist into the man's gut

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 827

>Regardless of whether it hit or not, Arcei would make an attempt to run past him and keep distance between them, interception roll possible.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842502

File: 1413664183832.jpg (220.5 KB, 794x1613, arc_trooper_by_nd_2500-d6fweoo…)

>Adler tanked the gut punch, but tried to use the momentum to grab the running boy's arm to stop him.

Roll 1d1000 = 230 odds

>If he did, He'd punch the guy in the back of the head while he still had a grasp on him.

Roll 1d1000 = 933 odds

>If the first roll failed, he simply chased Arcei with a plasma round or two

Roll 1d1000 = 504 odds, and Roll 1d2 = 1 hit.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842503

File: 1413664657257.png (617.81 KB, 1000x1000, Zappyzap.png)

>Arcei saw the attempted grab and twists his arm around to dodge the grabbing hands coming towards it, with some degree of effort, he slips his arm out of the way of any potential grabs as he continues running on.

>It was only the sound of the plasma rounds going off that dared him to turn his head back to the trooper, he saw the bolts of plasma and saw where they were going. Dodging them would be simple. He darts around the arena, letting the rounds sink into the floor as he fires another ball of lightning towards the soldier.

>If he kept going in to charge, he'd make a mistake eventually, best to mix it up a little, even if it was mana costly.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 387

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842504

File: 1413664824029.jpg (193.15 KB, 715x1075, tumblr_nbrt5u3EJn1rjabiuo1_128…)

>Okay, this slippery mage certainly wasn't gonna come quietly, if that electric pain-ball was any indication.
>Checking his gear, he realized his replift pack was likely back in order again, so he decided to gain the high ground and fire off some more shots from the air.

Roll 1d1000 = 903 odds, Roll 1d4 = 2 hit.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842505

File: 1413665248312.png (1.19 MB, 960x735, Chargedup.png)

>He was moving back into the air? That was going to be difficult to deal with...Especially since he didn't have any ranged attacks that weren't mana...Unless he wanted to try throwing his daggers, but that was going to be a two shot thing...

>So busy was Arcei thinking about this that he failed to register the four shots on their unerring course to the ground. Two shots manage to sink into him before he dives out of the way of the second pair. He doesn't cry out, though his face hardens into a glare and his teeth grit as he brings his hand back to his chest.

>He looks back up at the flying trooper and holds his hand up. Yet another ball of lightning appears at the tips of his fingers, but this one grows larger, to about the size of a basketball before he hurls it his opponent.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 505

>After he throws the ball, he makes a move to where his daggers lay, albeit a slow one considering the damage he'd only just been hit. Interception roll possible.

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842506

File: 1413666904545.jpg (13.59 KB, 298x396, 298px-ARCTrooper1-SOTF.jpg)

>The even bigger painball met it's mark, once again activating the emergency shutoff on Adler's replift pack.
>As he made his descent, 1138 did his best to aim his impact at the boy going for his daggers.

Roll 1d1000 = 636 odds

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842507

File: 1413667304443.jpg (290.62 KB, 1552x2252, Bloodsplatter.jpg)

>The man was descending again, Arcei smirks triumphantly, now he wasn't confined to long range, mana costing attacks.

>...He was coming awfully close as he was descending though.

>It wasn't until near enough the last second that Arcei's eyes widen and his face morphs into an expression of panic as he realises that the trooper was trying to collide with him. Reacting as fast as he could, Arcei rolls out of the way of the trooper attempting to careen into him, picking up his daggers as he rolled.

>He normally wouldn't attempt to attack in a situation like this...But he needed to end the fight fast. As the man flies forward, Arcei charges straight at him, brandishing his dagger as he did so. Expending a tiny portion of mana, he gives the dagger a slight static field, enough to shock any who contact with it without being lethal, and he swings the dagger at the falling trooper.

>Odds Roll 1d1000 = 587

VAk Trooper 1138 "Adler"!RpQzSCoUts 842508

>The dagger collided with a conducive part of the Trooper's armor. Sending yet another sock through his body.
>VAk 1138 found himself once again on his hands and knees, doing his best to get up from that.

Roll 1d1000 = 774 odds, and he manages to get up

evens, and the Trooper's out for the count.

Referee!pinkie78Os 842511

>and with the trooper falling for the last time, the referee would look up to the battlefield once again
>or at least he would, once he stopped playing around with his smartphone


>once he stopped playing around with his smartphone


>once he stopped playing around with his smartphone


>he'd finally look up to the ring, then lazily raise his hand

The winner of this fight is Arcei Erster from Vescaria.

Arcei Erster!Ren/VL7f/Q 842512

File: 1413668491238.jpg (43.74 KB, 516x728, I'mbringingsexyback.jpg)

>Arcei inclines his head to his opponent and walks out of the arena, his daggers vanishing up his sleeves as he did so.

>It was a match, and it was over now. He wasn't particularly bothered either way...But hey, at least he was one step closer to going home.

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843300

>Fingers drum impatiently on the hilt of a fine rapier, dark eyes narrowed as the figure waits for his opponent. Light seems to drain right into him, every aspect of his clothing and features as pitch black as night. His tall frame even casts a chillingly dark shadow, which like himself, seems to gobble up the light as voraciously as a black hole would.

>Perfectly coiffed and feathered dark hair is windswept away from the birdie's aristocratic face, his dark and pointed eyebrows furrowed in mild consternation. Massive black wings extending from his shoulders rustle and flick occasionally in irritation, the perfectly preened feathers glistening in the light of the arena.

>His manner of dress is lighter than that of a night; padded armor being all that he needed for this task. Lined with rubber to take an edge off of electricity should he face it and thick enough to stop basic longbows from causing terrible damage to himself should he decided to take to the air would cover his more damning weaknesses than any other manner of dress.
>The armor is relatively heavy, but nothing he hasn't had to handle before. Silver decorations adorn the padding, bearing the crest of the Hawk Party, and another of Littledove's flag.
>Dark boots are strapped to his legs, yet are lighter than the normal fare, to keep as much manuverability as he could muster with his detrimental armor clinging to his body.

>His sword is the only truly gleaming piece on him, made of a silvery alloy and elegantly crafted not only for beauty but deadly use as well.

>Alain is aware he isn't supposed to kill the verminous humans and other lesser species participating in this tournament, but he does relish the idea of exemplifying the Hawk Party's superiority over the masses that have gathered. Be it Mo'Gallian, Pony, Human or other; the birdies were the true master race of Rigel Prima and soon the world would know it.

>The sight of the humans in the audience turns the birdy's stomach to look at. They were by far the least beautiful of the many races gathered, nothing more than disgusting apes. He couldn't wait for his undoubtedly loathsome opponent to appear, he would be able to take out his disgust and frustrations on their sorry hide-


>What was that?

>Dark eyes fixate on a gleaming flicker of light from something silvery, held by an audience member (a dirty ape by the look of it). His dark eyes narrow keenly trying to discern what it could be.


>A silver broach! How splendid! But worn upon the pig-like features of the obese human he saw? A travesty!

!MEOWKdWFcQ 843308

I lost my folder for her so I have to go without images.
>a tournament was her time to shine.

>Alain's opponent entered the fray, a pony from the land of Equestria, yet something was different about her, yet it wasn't quite apparent at a glance.

>her light blue fur, complimenting her dark blue mane, shined in the sun. Unlike most ponies, she also wore clothing, a gothic lolita style outfit.

Alright then...

>a metallic object that looked to be the handle of a sword hung from her side

I'm fighting a bird? Guess beggars can't be choosers.

>the sword handle floated in the air, manipulated by the unicorn's magic

Name's Margaret, please to meet you!

Referee!pinkie78Os 843316

>as always, the odd cosplaying referee was present in the ring, though this time his outfit seemed to be more clearly defined
>he wore the typical outfit of a music composer from the Renaissance period, his deep red overcoat stretching down to his rear and a white powdered wig sitting awkwardly on his head


>he suddenly cupped a hand to his ear and shouted at both of the participants




>the referee would repeat this action a few times, still calling out to the participants, evidentially appearing to be deaf, or at least pretending to be

>after a few more instances of this, he'd gesture over at Alain

This is Alain Edgaar from Littledove!

>he'd then wave over at Margaret

And this is Margaret from Equestria!


>he'd then lift a hand up and shout at the top of his lungs


Roll 1d2 = 1
>evens, Alain goes first
>odds, Margaret does

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843322

Let's go!

>Margaret's weapon activates, a green laser emits from the end of the weapon; a "beam katana"

I toned down the strength of this weapon, for your safety. It's going to sting, but at least I won't end up cutting limbs off.

>"Which means no holding back!"

>Margaret ran at Alain and took a swipe at him with the beam weapon

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 838

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843328


>Alain remains silent, staring imperiously down at the pony as if she were some gum he had the misfortune to stand upon.


>Beggars couldn't be choosers apparently. He was faced with a damned pony for his opponent.


>Unfortunately, he couldn't sneer out any witty comeback, because as soon as the fight starts, the immeasurably dense pony started chattering about her-


>WOW that was shiny! Where did a pony get that? Did Equestrians even have that technological capability-?



>Alain squawks in pain and skids back, clutching his chest from where the weapon had seared his armor. The thud was surprisingly solid but the heat from the beam was more than enough to hurt right through it. The smell of burning cloth and rubber makes his nose wrinkle in disgust, his lip pulled up to show as much.

Such a shame I must constrain myself to the same criteria!

>He'd just have to resort to poking holes in her with his sword.

>His hand grips down on the sword and draws it out, but behind him, his wings suddenly fan out. The wingspan in impressive, from end to end nearly twice the height of the birdie bearing them.

>In their splendor, the wings rise, then flap powerfully, not only putting distance between himself and the mud horse, but sending a powerful gust of air barreling right for Margaret.

>Roll 1d1000 = 104 odds, the gust throws Margaret back, placing them both at opposite ends of the Arena.

>Whether or not successful, Alain lifts his sword into the air, the lights catching upon the thin rapier most dazzlingly.

>He declares loudly for all that watch, his voice easily carrying into the air with authority and power:

Behold Nevermore! It is by this sword, the sword filled with love for the Hawk Party and Birdkind everywhere, which you shall find no victory!

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843331


>Margaet digs her hooves into the ground

...Oh! I get it! The Raven, right?

>her katana began spinning in the air like a saw.

Tsubaki is mine.. But it isn't my only weapon.

>she fired a magic blast from her horn, trying to knock the birdman out of the sky.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 694
>if successful, Roll 1d1000 = 795 evens she manages to knock him out of the sky, back down to earth

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843333



>The blast finds its mark but fails to knock the birdman from the sky. He winces and twirls backwards, then pats his chest to brush away the stinging magic stuck on his armor.

>He needed to actually attack this stupid mudhorse now, it's yammering was giving him a headache and the potshots weren't improving the glorious Hawk Party's reputation if a nebulously dense pony could just keep zapping him to its heart's content.

>With a growl, Alain grips Nevermore and dives right for the pony like a fearsome dark angel, the gleaming point of Nevermore similarly diving, though in a thrust right for the pony's front right leg.

>Roll 1d1000 = 229 odds, ka-STAB!

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843337

>the attack pierces, Margaret winces in pain, and yet the attack doesn't draw any blood despite the deepness of the wound.

That won't work on me!

>her katana rose over Alain's head and dropped down, aiming for his left shoulder.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 2

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843343


-?! What in the hell-?

>Alain doesn't have time to wonder why the pony doesn't bleed, or why it didn't seem to completely disarm the arm either.

>The weapon collides into his shoulder, easily cleaving past the padded armor and into the muscle, extracting an even louder squawk of pain from him. His wing tweaks painfully, the muscle spasming from the hit, and making him drop to the ground.

>The birdy's eyebrows furrow furiously, and with a yell, he decides to do something decidedly less elegant but something he wanted to do regardless.

>Roll 1d1000 = 42 odds, punts Margaret away from him with a particularly strong kick

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843350

>Margaret leapt back, out of the attacks range. The pony didn't even seem to be affected by the attack at all. Was this form of magic that Margaret knows, or something else entirely.

You're cocky and arrogant, but that squawking isn't doing you any favors!

>she swung her beam katana at him

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 307
>if successful, follows up with a magic blast
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 515

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843354


>Furious with the pony now, the raven drops all pretenses of formality and puffery, his scowl fully apparent on his face.

Miserable horse!

>This time the birdy is ready for the attack, swiftly twisting to the side to avoid the katana from once again slicing into his armor.

>Before Margaret can charge her magic blast, Alain charges forwards, his remaining and functional dark wind swings forward with a rustle of his feathers.

>Roll 1d1000 = 253 odds, the wing slaps Margaret with surprising strength, enough to send her toppling away from him.

Shuu Iwamine/Yuuya Sakazaki!uvadBiRdiE 843355

File: 1413847381735.jpg (97.95 KB, 560x800, shuuyuuya.jpg)


>As one of the top-ranking officials of the Hawk Party, a certain partridge was given the wonderful opportunity to attend the Rigel Prima Olympic Tournament, to watch the Littledove-Great Plains team take on the rest of the world.

"Ahhh, isn't this a wonderful competition, Monsieur Iwamine?"

>And he had to be seated beside the biggest pain in his rump for the entire competition.

>He didn't even want to go. He was told that if he didn't take this "opportunity", he would be stuck with paperwork for the next month, rather than lab work. None of the other Hawk officials were there, either, so it seemed like he was just stuck with the duty of being the sole diplomatic liaison for the party.

>That, or they just wanted somebody to keep the Doves in line, and they knew he could do that through his grip on Sakazaki.

Indeed it is.

"Perhaps you would be willing to place a friendly bet, between colleagues?"

>It was just a shame Sakazaki was such an annoying idiot.


"Ah, I can't say I did not expect that response."

>The fantail beside him flashes one of his stupid smiles. He was well-dressed for the occasion, wearing a fine suit and tie that complimented his powder blue hair. The strangest part of his attire was the silver Littledove flag pin attached to his lapel. It always seemed to catch the light just right.


>Shuu flicks his gaze back to the fight.

That's a dirty trick, Sakazaki.

"Your accusation wounds me, Monsieur."

>Out of the corner of his eye, Shuu notices Yuuya's brow furrow.

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843358


>this attack appeared to have an effect on her, unlike the sword.


>as she regained her balance, the horse pony grinned

Now we're talking! A few more hits liek that and I might actually enjoy this!

>her horn glowed a bright blue color, before flashing brightly, evens, the light is bright enough to daze Alain

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 663
>if successful, she gets in close and tries to buck Alain
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 171

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843362


>In the face of the light, Alain simply lifts his wing and folds it around himself to prevent his eyes from becoming dazzled, the darkness of his feathers easily doing so.

>When he hears the pony galloping up, he sweeps aside from the pony's predicted buck, before swinging his wing back for the pony's unprotected rump.

>Roll 1d1000 = 358 odds, hit!



>following either success for failure for that previous roll...

>Roll 1d1000 = 780

>odds, his back turned to the box, the twinkling goes unnoticed for now.

>evens, a silvery twinkle makes the birdy freeze for a moment, his head turning to try and spot the gleam that had shown in his eye at that moment.

What was that?

>So distracted, the next hit Margaret makes can be made with ease, as the raven's distracted eyes fixate on the box housing the Littledove representatives.

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843366

>again, she dodges out of the way, wondering why he would go for a shot to her rump of all places.

Easily distracted, huh?

>she ran after him, moving behind him, going for another buck

>evens (or results up to Grell) Roll 1d1000 = 500

>if successful, she spins her katana like a saw and sent it at the easily distracted swan, trying to hit him multiply times with the rapidly spinning blade

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 669
>how many times it hits Roll 1d5 = 4

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843368




>The man's remaining wing gives a nasty sounding crunch, the buck so powerful it sends him flying right for the edge of the ring in a wheel of black feathers and twisted appendages.

>He flies far out of her reach, but in too much pain to proper mount a counteroffensive, the birdy just tries to push himself up from the floor with his arms, his chest heaving mightily.

>He mentally slaps himself, the momentary distraction enough to put him in such dire straits so fast.


Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843374

And now for the finisher!

>she fires another magic blast at him, hoping to knock him off the edge as he gets back up, this pony shows no mercy

>evens, hits Roll 1d1000 = 819
>evens, it's strong enough for a ring out Roll 1d1000 = 638

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843381



>The bird lets himself flop back to the ground the blast passing harmlessly over his head in a rush of air and tinkling of magic.

>His wing feels as if it took the brunt of the buck, but it also meant he wouldn't be able to use them to attack any more. His shoulder was still seared, the muscle for his left wing compromised, leaving it dragging on the arena floor.

>The other was horribly broken. He couldn't move it at all without an agonizing pain traveling up his spine.

>It's a miracle he can stand, and he does so to put some distance between himself and the edge of the ring.

>Still, he's frustrated and perplexed.

>Nevermore also seemed to do absolutely nothing when localized to attacking even a place that should have hindered the pony by some manner.
>With a frustrated grunt he snaps at the pony.

What the hell are you!?

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843385

>Margaret chuckled, standing up on her hind legs to shrug.

What am I? I'm a pony, they make up the population of Equestria. Specifically, I'm a Unicorn, the magic users of the species, the majority of Unicorns live in Canterlot.

>she paused, trying to hold back laughter

Oh! You mean /what/ I am? That's a good question...

I'll give you a hint, my head can come off and I'm fine. What am I?

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843387


...You're a damned undead?!

>What the actual hell, Equestrians actually made zombies?

>Those horses were only pathetic animals, akin to dogs except with the ability to speak, but this travesty was absolutely abhorrent.
>His expression mirrors his disgust, and with a shout, he takes Nevermore back into his hand, charging the unicorn with a yell.


>Roll 1d1000 = 494 odds, once he's close enough, Alain jabs the rapier right into the pony's center of mass.

>if hit, Roll 1d1000 = 26 odds, he kicks her off following the stab.

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843388


>Although, Margaret didn't exactly ask for it, truth be told, she wasn't so happy with it initially, but she learned to adapt to her undead state.

>and she wasn't so sure that the magic itself was Equestrian, she hadn't heard about Necromancy being possible.

The what party?

>she leapt out of the attack's range

Is this like some political party thing? Because I think you should go back to politics at this rate!

>she went in for a headbutt, thankfully for Alain's sake her horn was more rounded at the tip than sharpened to a point

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 889

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843396



>This time Alain quickly sheathes his sword, the opportunity arriving too good to pass up. The pony had charged directly at him, but in a single sidestep he's able to avoid her blunt horn.

>With such close proximity, his undamaged arms dive for her.

>Roll 1d1000 = 602

>odds, Alain snatches the pony from midair, an arm tucking around her throat and his other around her midsection.

>If successful, he squeezes his arm around her throat, his other arm positioned to hold her body in a position that would make it difficult to kick him in.

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843403

>Margaret slips through his grasp before any damage can be done

Jeez! Go down already! Your wing is damaged, quit before that thing is ruined forever.

>she swung her beam katana at his back.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 249

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843409


>The unicorn's statement makes the raven fluff indignantly, his brows furrowing in anger at the thought.

I fight for the glory of the Hawk Party! We are warriors who will not bend the knee to filth like you!

Even if I sacrifice my body for my party, I shall not waver in my resolution!

Especially not to an undead abomination like you!

>The man spins on heel, aiming a kick for the pony's large head.

>Roll 1d1000 = 616 odds, hit!

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843413

>suddenly, before the kick can hand a hit, Margaret's head rises off of her neck, causing the kick to whiff right between her head and neck.


>somehow she could still talk, despite being detached from her lungs. Her head reattached

And I won't lose to someone who calls me filth!

>she swung her katana at him again

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 893

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843414



>Alain ducks, then jumps forward to tackle the pony into the ground, his elbow swinging around and coming down right for the pony's back.

>Roll 1d1000 = 230 odds, BAM!

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843415

>another dodge

Come on already!

>Margaret went in for another strike to his gut.

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 79

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843419


>The birdy rolls away and breathes harshly, perturbed by how they both could effortlessly dodge one another.

>Granted, the pony had caused far more damage to him, but there was still a chance!

>And damn did his wings hurt...!

>Alain stands to a knee, and emulating the pony earlier, he charges forward in a headbutt to (hopefully) knock her head away from her body.

>Roll 1d1000 = 960 odds

Margaret!MEOWKdWFcQ 843420

>again, she moves out of the way. She was far better off than him, she was more durable as well. However, he could still sneak in a few shots.

>as she dodges out of the way, she rapid fires a few magic blasts at him

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 368

>how many hit Roll 1d5 = 2

Alain Edgaar!.ZzGrellBs 843421



>The first blast finds his chest, making the birdy stumble back with a gasp.

>But the second blast is what does it, an explosion of stars erupting in the raven's vision in a brilliant flash, before everything turns blissfully dark.

>He hits the ground, wings and limbs twitching from both the beating, the pain, and the exhaustion shooting through his body.

Referee!pinkie78Os 843426

>even as Alain falls to the concrete, the referee seems to have a delayed reaction


>he cupped a hand to his ear, still pretending to have hearing problems



>he then raised his other hand up, calling out at an overly loud volume

The winner is Margaret of Equestria!

Shuu Iwamine/Yuuya Sakazaki!uvadBiRdiE 843428

File: 1413854400201.jpg (70.8 KB, 473x618, shuu_flowybrownlocks.jpg)

"The representative of the Hawk Party fell to an equine..."

>The fantail shakes his head sadly, earning a sideways glance from the partridge.

"Such a shame. Our team is half eliminated already."

>Shuu's lips press together in a slight frown. To be honest, it was a problem. Littledove's only other representative in the joint team was Higure, and he wasn't exactly known to be... well... competent. Or a huge fan of the Hawks, for that matter.

... ah.

>Shuu pushes himself to his feet with the sigh of a tired birdie. Yuuya's smirk shrinks, and he peers up at the doctor.

That was my phone.
>He sidesteps past the fantail.
If you'll excuse me, I need to take a call.

>As he exits the box, he can hear a soft murmur behind him,

"I didn't hear anything..."

Princess Celestia!rjtGfDeadI 843477

File: 1413860077328.png (191.04 KB, 1007x794, princess_celestia_by_90sigma-d…)

>Watching from a private viewing box, Princess Celestia would be sipping from her tea glass. She was quite pleased with the turn out of this fight being more satisfactory to her nation then the last round. Of course Deadpony's dropping out ment he could return to his duties, but she was always one to see the bright side.

Your Highness, are you sure it was wise letting that unicorn represent us? First the stark raving lunatic, then the undead unicorn? People may begin to suspect we are up to something.

And what would that be Kibitz? If you were in charge I suppose you would have selected three of our elite guard along with one of Luna's nightwatch. Oh how boring would that be seeing the same four fighting styles over and over? At the very least this shows Equestria has a tad more flavor then what everyone else sees of us don't you think?

>The yellow stallion looks away for a moment. He couldn't very well argue with the princess's logic, but he still didn't quite agree with it.

I suppose you are correct your highness. But aren't you afraid someone may accuse you of cheating? After all bringing a member of the undead may seem awefuly unfair to other nations.

>The a smile, Celestia would look over to Kibitz. It was obvious she had anticipated the question.

It's no more unfair then letting a squishy mage fight against a minotaur. If Deadpony's fight proved anything it's just as likely for one who can ignore pain to fall in this tournament as much as anyone else.

>At this, Kibitz seemed very nervous indeed. He didn't expect the princess to be so forward. Perhaps she was enjoying this a tad too much.

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 843713

>A faint scream would be heard from inside the arena.

Oh my Celestia! How are you even-

I would suggest you not finish that. Don't you know it's rude to touch people's things without their permission? I mean really, I know Batman has broken hands for less.

>As he exits the arena, the stallion known as Wade Wilson would slip his mask back on. During his nap, one of the nurses got curious to what he looked like. Course, anyone who knew Wade, knew he didn't keep the mask on for the secret identity.

>Shifting into human from, he makes his way outside. With his role in the tournament done he needed to make his way back to Canterlot and return to work.

Well that was fun and all. Good luck team, you're gonna need it. With all the powered up people out there you're gonna need all the help you can get.

>It was suddenly then, Deadpony stopped in his tracks. His entire body freezes upon spotting the towering figure before him. Looking up at the monument placed before the arena, he would recognize it instantly. Polished and clean though it was, Wade could still see it object for what it was. A symbol of his greatest sin, a reminder of a terrible day that would be better left forgotten.

>His mind flashes backwards. He can still see the ash that was once people surrounding the very tower. The sky of that very morning when he was resurrected still fresh in his mind.

>He remembers it as if it had just happened yesterday. How he had traded one horrible deed for another. How he convinced himself that the destruction of one city was enough to justify the salvation of the entire multiverse.

>Was it? Or was that just something he had told himself to keep him from going mad?

>Still, here it was. His sin staring down at him, judgingly. As if mocking him for being the one to survive when others didn't have such a privilege. But why? Why was this here? Who would move desecrate the sight just to make a memorial? These questions and thousands of others flooded his mind as he stared at these twisted remains of metal that seemed only to remind him that he was surely going to hell when death finally caught up to him.

!MrCarnage2 843749

File: 1413938549624.jpg (467.74 KB, 2560x1600, roses1.jpg)

>Standing near the base of the gigantic shard of twisted metal was a small white marbled altar that Deadpony could approach. Near its base, countless flowers and roses had been laid out before it in what was doubtless a show of sympathetic mourning for the loss of the great city and its people.

>Among those roses were four distinct samples that stood out amongst the rest in both color and aroma and lay closest to the marble headstone. Those flowers were the ones deposited by the Maresian representatives at the start of the ceremony and looked quite spectacular even surrounded by the multitude of others of their kind. For even as the days passed by and the flowers began to witter and dry up, those four roses stayed as fresh and pert as the first day they had first been placed in their position.

>More striking still for the man however must have been the inscription of the marble altar whose words were etched onto its white surface with bold black script.

Let this shard of Aelazandre ever remind us of how brightly humanity can shine... and how heavy the toll for complacency can be.

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 843793

>What a poor choice of words considering how Alezandre ended up going out. Even with his skin in a constant state of flux, he could still feel the fires of the explosion all over his body.

>He notices the four distinct roses placed on the memorial. He'd seen enough funerals to know the procedure for stuff like this. One guy, one rose. Considering there were four, that could very well mean a team in the tournament had placed them. That would mean someone from another country traveled to Alezandre and pulled this out of the ground.

>Wade's sorrow then turned to rage. To him, this was the equivalent of digging up a corpse to place its arm on a mantle. They could have just as easily built a statue with the recovery efforts it must have taken to place this monstrosity up here in Silver City.

>What could he do? Destroy it? The very thought of that gave him the grim reminder that he had destroyed enough of the city as it is. Could he put it back? No, that would mean he himself returning to that horrible place.

>Wade was lost. He wasn't sure what do. Was this right? Was this wrong? Is this what the people he killed would have wanted? To be remembered as a twisted pile of metal that was once a glorious statement of architecture?

>He stands in silence, unable to comprehend what to do. His mind conflicting as to what the correct course of action to take would be.

Oceane !MrCarnage2 843802

File: 1413942430749.jpg (748.14 KB, 1500x2121, mahou_shoujo_madoka_magica_-_m…)

>With Deadpony's silent contemplation as to his course of action as he fixedly stared at the shard of Aelazandre; a figure stepped out of the monument's shadow, bright clothes catching the light of the sun and reflecting them dazzlingly back into Deadpony's view.

>From the way she stood and the white cloak that fluttered in the wind the girl's unmistakable figure stared directly into Deadpony's blank eyes with none of the fear, disgust or pity most people displayed. Rather, the girl's dark eyes stared right at the merc with remorseless intensity even as tears of blood fell down the sides of her face and shadows pooled unnaturally at her feet with every step she took.

Does it matter?

>She asked in a voice utterly devoid of compassion.

What they do with the ruins after the fact?

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 843868

>Placing his hands on his head, Wade would begin to shake violantly. The woman appearing before him doing nothing to help his current state. If anything, it mainly made it worse.

No...It's not right...

>Lowering his head, he would try to block out the screams, block out the woman standing before him. The one who he knew couldn't be there. The one he saw die right before her eyes.

It's not right...people died in this thing. You don't gussy up a meat grinder in memorial of the cows that went in it.


>He shouts at the top of his lungs. He lowers his hands from his head and swings them to his side as he looks upward at the memorial once more. Anger, Sorrow, Regret, these were but a few of the emotions he felt for seeing this so called memorial on display.

Oceane !MrCarnage2 843994

File: 1413989993878.jpg (75.92 KB, 668x1000, mahou-shoujo-madoka-magica-mik…)

>People turned to stare at the big muscled man who screamed at the top of his lungs before hurrying away from the scene as quickly as their legs would carry them; the girl turned slightly so that only half of herself could be seen whilst the other darkened over with shadows across which paths of stark red blood traveled down her body and the shadows at her feet danced wilder still.

We fulfilled out duty to the world and disappeared.

>She continued in her emotionless tone.

We died in a way that ensured the world would live.

What they do with our corpses is insignificant now that we are but ashe in the wind.


File: 1413998761945.png (259.29 KB, 426x600, tumblr_n75ehoJZ8j1tdi7h1o1_500…)

>The vampire girl walked into the ring, looking at the crowd in the stands, grinning a bit to herself

>"Alright, this is my chance to show them what I can do! Show them how awesome a vampire super heroine is! Push the view those folks who give Vamps a bad name right out the window!" she thought excitedly to herself

>Standing still as she got into the ring she grinned widely, putting the sengoku driver onto her waist a "Clink" noise being made as the belt materialized around her waist

Alright Then! Let's get down to business~

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844030

File: 1414000248491.jpg (21.59 KB, 592x333, guardians-of-the-galaxy-drax-2…)

>almost as soon as Arich entered the ring, she'd hear someone running towards it, their footsteps making loud "THUNK" sounds against the dirt path
>she'd then see a figure run out through the opening to the locker rooms and leap into the air, landing in the ring directly across from her
>the figure would remain kneeling for a few seconds, then straighten up and turn to face her, letting out a bellowing shout as he flexed his arms

For the glory of my new home of Victin!

For the people of Silver City!

I shall win this contest of strength-

>he stopped at the end of his brief speech, his gaze lowering slightly when he actually got a look at his opponent


>he blinked and tilted his head, looking both confused and offended at Arich

...they send a child to face me?!

Have they no dignity?!

Referee!pinkie78Os 844031

>once Drax had made his entrance, the referee made a quick adjustment to the unruly wig that was sitting atop his head
>the wild grey hair and the bushy mustache made for a very familiar face, and the terrible German accent just added to it

Ja, now zat ve are all present, ve shall begin!

>he'd tug at his tan turtleneck sweater, then gesture over to Arich

In zis corner, ve have Arich Zenith fom ze country of Mo'Gali...Galill...Gallilly...

>he'd sputter a couple more times, then shake his head and wave

Zat one country of monster-people!

>he'd then gesture over at the burly alien on the other side

And in zis corner, from ze far reaches of outer space, but currently residing here in Silver City, zis is Drax Ze Destroyer!

>he'd then life his hand up above his head



Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Arich goes first
>odds, Drax does


File: 1414001278051.jpg (100.12 KB, 500x641, tumblr_n7dzgqqMeo1r4089mo1_500…)


I'll have you know that I'm 24 years old! I just haven't gotten any Blood Oranges to drink in a few weeks...

>She says and folds her arms before "Hmpphing"

I think you'll find that under estimating me would be a big mistake!

>She holds up her lockseed and pushes a button and it announces...

>A zipper opens up in the sky and a giant red metallic orange descends from the zipper before it disappears

>She puts it onto her belt and latches the lock, the belt announces "LOCK ON"

>She goes to grab the slicer on her sengoku driver...


>But she stops herself part way through

>She taps her chin and says outloud...

Ya know what, I think for now I'm gonna keep ya guessing Mister "Destroyer"

>She runs forward and throws a punch at Drax, which despite being in child form, packs a bit of punch, due to her vampire physiology

Roll 1d1000 = 688

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844035

File: 1414001932902.jpg (24.82 KB, 480x360, hqdefault.jpg)

>Drax was still none too pleased about this turn of events, clearly not believing that Arich was as old as she claimed to be

You appear to be a child, so how were you able to convince those hosting this event that you were any older?

>he shook his head and placed his hands on his hips

I cannot condone such actions!

I demand that you go back and tell your team to send your real representative or-


>Drax's indignant response would be interrupted by Arich punching him square in the face, which had the surprising effect of sending him flying clear across the arena

>Drax's species - and Drax in particular - were very durable and quick to heal, so for anyone to do something like that was simply astounding
>and for it to be what he perceived as a little girl, and a non-threat, was enough to ellicit huge gasps and "ooooohs" of shock from the audience
>Drax landed at the ring's edge on the other side, laying against the concrete, temporarily stunned while watching little stars and blood oranges fly around his head


File: 1414002376510.png (765.03 KB, 1196x672, krueger time.png)


...Whoopse, I think I might've over did it.

>She says rubbing the back of her head a bit

It'd be boring if I knocked him out of the ring so soon though...so for now...

>She holds a hand to the air before shouting


>The orange falls ontop of her head

>Energy flows from the orange and a blue armored body suit forms from it, Yellow accents on the legs, golden wrist cuffs, and carrying an Over all "Samurai" motif.
>The orange lowered and formed body armor, before a burst of energy resembling a splash forms an orange slice shaped sword in one of her hands, and a gun sword combo in the otehr

>She takes a defensive position and waits for Drax to get back up

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844039

File: 1414003023593.jpg (58.17 KB, 618x412, movies-guardians-of-the-galaxy…)

>Drax would soon stir after a few seconds more of laying on the ring, slowly sitting up and shaking his head to try and focus again
>he'd turn and look up at Arich, a slow grin growing on his face

Ah, now there is my opponent!

I do not know what you were trying to accomplish by sending that girl out, but it matters not!

>he stands up straight and flexes his muscles again, then runs across the ring


>he then leaps in the air and swings a super-strong fist at Arich's face

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 871


File: 1414003394130.png (1.03 MB, 1196x672, is this pornhub.png)



>She rubs the back of her head in embarrassment as Drax seems to think that she's not the same person

>For now she decides not to address it

>But she doesn't have much time to think on it as he suddenly comes running at her with a fist

>She barely manages to side step in time to avoid the punch


>She says with a gulp before hoisting her Daidaimaru up and rushing to hit Drax with the flat of its blade

Roll 1d1000 = 898

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844042

File: 1414003600288.jpg (161.19 KB, 620x320, guardians-of-the-galaxy-david-…)

>the flat of the blade smacks into Drax's shoulder, but doesn't seem to bother him that much
>landing beside Arich, he immediately spun around and swung an arm at the side of her head, with enough power to easily knock her off her feet
>evens, LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Roll 1d1000 = 921


File: 1414003868235.png (704.69 KB, 1196x672, so that's what he meant.png)


>Arich gulps and quikcly ducks under the fist

Alright, if you're this tough you're gonna end up making me us that and jeesh I thought I could save it for later!

>She said a tone of disappointment in her voice

>She attaches her blades to her belt and reaches her hand to the knife on the belt before pushing it down 3 times

>The belt and lockseed announce "BLOOD ORANGE SPARKING!"

>Arich holds up a super charged fist before trying to punch Drax

Roll 1d1000 = 492

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844044

File: 1414004097628.jpg (80.99 KB, 979x576, Guardians-of-the-Galaxy-Drax.j…)

>the energy-charged fist would knock Drax back, his feet leaving the concrete and his body going up a bit into the air
>but he'd land shortly after, holding his chin and rotating his head from side to side to adjust
>then, with a vicious roar, he'd charge forward and try to grab Arich around the middle
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 122
>if successful, he'd then spin around and try to slam her back-first into the concrete, putting all his weight behind the movement
>evens, spinebuster Roll 1d1000 = 313

Deadpony the internetless 844045

And what sense does that make!?

>as Wade shouts his hands ball up. His nails piercing through his gloves and into his palms causing streaks of blood to drip down from his hands and onto the concrete.

If that's true then why am I still here!? Why did these people have to die and I'm still standing?

>lifting his right hand up he opens up before slashing his hand through the air. Blood flies from his hand and into the area surrounding the monument.

I should be dead along side them damn it! So tell me, if they all died so the world can keep turning then why leave the one fucked up guy who's constantly fucking it up?


File: 1414004422692.png (688.73 KB, 1196x672, aww fuck.png)


>She's caught off guard as he comes roaring towards her

>Sparks fly from Arich's body rammed into hers

>The force of the impact would knock her into the air before he could grab her

>She falls at the edge of the ring, momentarily stunned and unable to full get back up


Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844047

File: 1414004841882.jpg (13.69 KB, 427x240, 916014862-Guardians-of-the-Gal…)

>Drax didn't halt his momentum at all despite Arich flying off to the ring's edge, still charging after her like a miniature freight train

This battle is mine!

>once he got close enough to Arich's fallen form, he swung a hard foot upwards and attempted to punt her out of the ring

>evens, hit Roll 1d1000 = 404
>evens, ring out Roll 1d1000 = 41


File: 1414005801176.png (371.4 KB, 481x680, S_h_figuarts_kachidoki_bujin_g…)


>Arich gets kicked...but she digs her feet into the ground and pushes forward before the force of Drax's kick can force her out of the ring

You haven't won yet..

>She lifts up a lockseed

This match...is on my stage!

>She unlocks it and t announces "BLOOD KACHIDOKI!"

>She takes the blood orange lockseed out and the armor vanishes before she locks on the Kachidoki lockseed and pushes the knife on the driver down.

>Another armored orange appears above before descending and covering Arich

>A much bulkier and sturdier armor forms around her before her belt announces...
Blood Kachidoki Arms! The Vampire's Triumph!
>she immediately rushes forward with a super strong punch

Roll 1d1000 = 89

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844055

File: 1414006219227.jpg (36.07 KB, 574x316, Drax-The-Destroyer-e1392929388…)

>this time, Drax was prepared for Arich's counterattack, ducking and weaving to the side to avoid the strong punch

You should have used this armour at the start!

If you intend to win a battle, then you must never hold back!

>he swung another heavy fist up at Arich's chin, still close enough to the edge of the ring for her to fall out

>evens, hits Roll 1d1000 = 799
>evens, ring out Roll 1d1000 = 825


File: 1414006676637.png (426.92 KB, 537x470, moarbloodkachidoki.PNG)


>Arich ducked under his fist

Well I don't exactly know everything this thing does yet! I mean for some reason there's a keyhole in the lockseed!

>She exclaims before looking Drax in the eyes

>She notices an opening and reaches to her belt

Roll 1d1000 = 663
>Odds, Min Damage, she just goes for a punch
>Evens, she slashes her belt three times and it announces "BLOOD KACHIDOKI SPARKING!" and she goes for a roundhouse kick charged with the full power of the Blood Kachidoki lockseed

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844057

File: 1414006932971.jpg (15.92 KB, 655x350, guardians-of-the-galaxy-drax-g…)

>Drax takes the punch, but very quickly moves back to his original position like nothing happened
>evidentially, even with the Kachidoki armour Drax was more durable than Arich would think
>with another shout, he swung forward and attempted to headbutt her right in the face
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 695
>if successful, he then grabs her around the middle and lifts her up, before swinging her back down in a powerbomb
>evens, succeeds Roll 1d1000 = 566
>evens, ring out Roll 1d1000 = 364


File: 1414007438809.png (389.58 KB, 463x446, bloodkachidoki 2 3.PNG)


>Arich would use her shoulder armor to prevent her face from being smashed in

I have to say, you're a pretty exciting opponent! Definitely give some of those guys I fought in that Sengoku world palce a run for their money!

>She holds her fist up again and pushes down the knife on her belt twice, it announces "BLOOD KACHIDOKI! AU LAIT!"

>she attempts performing a flaming uppercut on Drax
Roll 1d1000 = 478

>If successful, she grabs the pair of flags off her back and makes and upward slashing motion with them, sending an energy blast in the shape of a blood orange slice up towards Drax

Roll 1d1000 = 521

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844062

File: 1414008053878.jpg (161.19 KB, 620x320, guardians-of-the-galaxy-david-…)

>this time, the uppercut was enough to knock Drax further back, his feet again leaving the ring and his body flying back
>he crashed against the concrete and grunted, sitting back up and rubbing his chin, his jaw getting very sore

You are proving to be a worthy adversary as well!

But by the rules of this contest, you are still in a vulnerable position!

>he pushed himself back up and again charges at Arich

>as she had yet to move from the ring's edge, there was still a chance for Drax to end this, and he wastes no time in trying to do so, swinging his arm at her head once more
>evens, LARIATOOOOOOOOOOOOO Roll 1d1000 = 396
>evens, ring out Roll 1d1000 = 955


File: 1414008533041.png (426.92 KB, 537x470, moarbloodkachidoki.PNG)


>Arich gets knocked to the gorund by the punch and groans

>she rolls away from the edge of the ring before getting back up

Well yeah, but you have to admit...

>She looks to the crowd

being on the edge so long...kept them..well on edge.

If anyone's going to take me seriously though...I can't goof like that

>She laughed slightly before taking out her Musou saber

>She shoved it into her DJ Gun turning the two into their combined sword mode

>She held the blade still for a few moments, before red energy started to climb up it

>she sliced it down at the ground and a blast of lockseed energy went flying for Drax

Roll 1d1000 = 418

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844070

File: 1414009072961.jpg (15.92 KB, 655x350, guardians-of-the-galaxy-drax-g…)

>Drax immediately turned around as Arich rolled away, stomping after her with clear vicious intent in his eyes
>but this left him open for the energy blade to smash into his chest, knocking him back and having him land on the concrete once more
>he rubbed the area where he was hit with a slight hissing sound, the attacking having done a bit more damage than the previous attacks, but again something he could shrug off in due time
>he pushed back up to his feet, then charged across the ring with a roar, trying to tackle Arich back down
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 861
>if successful, he then reaches down and grabs Arich, hauling her up and lifting her over his head
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 747
>if both successful, he rears back and throws Arich across the ring
>roll for safe landing


File: 1414009433238.jpg (129.13 KB, 953x720, tumblr_n42vj2SHHO1sih9h2o6_128…)


>Arich jumps to the side before Drax can hit her

>Pulling the DJ Gun off of her Musou Saber, she aims it at the ground and fires, using it to propel herself in the air

>In the air, she slashes the knife on her belt down three times

>The belt announces "KACHIDOKI SPARKING!"

>She comes charging down with an energy charged Superman Punch aimed at Drax

Roll 1d1000 = 195

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844077

File: 1414009688575.jpg (27.01 KB, 480x360, tumblr_nagp9rNFz61s58fdwo1_500…)

>Drax would look up as Arich fell towards him, a very powerful punch aimed right at him
>however, he had enough time to duck forward and avoid the attack, turning around while she continued to fall
>just as she got close enough, he reached out and attempted to catch her, then throw him over his back and into the concrete
>evens, suplex Roll 1d1000 = 702


File: 1414010323600.jpg (215.88 KB, 1191x670, kamen_rider_gaim___kachidoki_a…)


>Arich gets slammed into the concrete, her head spinning for a moment

>for a few brief moments she seems dazed and stunned

>But she slowly gets back up

>Had it been any normal human, or even Kaijin, that would have barely affected Arich, but given Drax's sheer power, their was a clear stagger in her stature, she was close to her breaking point

>She slashes the knife on her driver three times again, the driver making the same announcement as, when she holds a hand up

...Burai Chop.

>She steps forward towards Drax before trying to deliver an energy charged Karate chop

Roll 1d1000 = 575

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844104

File: 1414010747748.jpg (72.12 KB, 250x300, dave-bautista-drax-the-destroy…)

>Drax quickly moved back to avoid the chop, the energy passing right by his massive chest and just narrowly avoiding burning it
>in the same instance, he lifted a foot up and thrust it out at Arich's chest, intending to kick her away to regain the advantage
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 117


File: 1414010953192.png (371.4 KB, 481x680, S_h_figuarts_kachidoki_bujin_g…)


>Arich hops back out of the way of Drax's kcik

>She lifts up the DJ Gun, making sure first that it was set to bellow lethal concussive force before firing a large blast of energy from it

Roll 1d1000 = 68

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844129

File: 1414012578946.jpg (79.2 KB, 660x330, bautista-drax-clip.jpg)

>the blast of energy flew right at Drax, but he showed no fear or intimidation at the attack
>he instead held his chest out to tank the blow, fully intending on withstanding the attack without even trying that hard
Roll 1d1000 = 728
>evens, the energy hits his chest and pushes him back just a bit, but his feet dig into the ring and prevent him from going any further, a triumphant roar leaving his mouth as he stands there and shrugs the pain off
>odds, he overestimates just what exactly the attack is in terms of power, and he's knocked back from the blow, tumbling along the concrete until halting a short distance away


File: 1414013009166.png (426.92 KB, 537x470, moarbloodkachidoki.PNG)


...Well alright, damn Drax, you're tough.

>She comments and rubs the back of her head a bit, before firing another shot from the DJ Gun towards him, even if one shot did little, if she kept it up, it'd eventually wear him down right?

Roll 1d1000 = 60

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844143

File: 1414013515630.jpg (84.19 KB, 1024x576, guardians-of-the-galaxy-movie-…)

>there was a clear singe on Drax's chest where the canoon hit him, but it was already starting to heal up, his regenerative powers working to fix the damage that was done
>but he felt confident enough to tank another blow, even as Arich sent another one his way
>he stuck his chest out and prepared to stand his ground once more, another roar leaving his mouth
Roll 1d1000 = 444
>evens, he does just that, his heels digging into the ring a bit more as the energy collides with him and bursts off of his body
>odds, this time he isn't able to withstand it, getting knocked flat on his back like he took a shotgun to the stomach

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844153

File: 1414014151225.jpg (21.59 KB, 592x333, guardians-of-the-galaxy-drax-2…)

>almost as soon as the energy hits him, Drax suddenly leaps forward, the energy practically bouncing off of him as he charges for Arich
>suddenly hit with an incredible burst of adrenaline, he rushes right for her and ducks down, attempting to shoulder tackle her once again, the energy from the gun blast still tingling around his body to only further add to the force behind the blow
Roll 1d1000 = 278
>evens, max damage
>odds, min damage


File: 1414014427168.jpg (61.1 KB, 400x424, tumblr_n6hsbsPm301spr6cmo2_400…)


>Arich takes the full force of Drax's tackle, it causing her transformation to cancel

>She slides across the ground

>She lifts her head up and groans...

>Before it falls back down and she fades from consciousness

>While she was injured, on-lookers would be glad to see that thanks to her rider form having been active msot of the match, the damages were minimal

Drax the Destroyer!pinkie78Os 844161

File: 1414015128324.jpg (58.17 KB, 618x412, movies-guardians-of-the-galaxy…)

>once Arich had hit the ring's edge and turned back to normal, the referee raised his hand up high

Ze vinner of zis bout is Draz Ze Destroyer!

>even as the crowd seemed jubilant at Drax's victory, Drax himself didn't seem as pleased

...what is this?!

>he lifted a hand and gestured at Arich, now having no idea how to take it

>on the one hand, she was the same girl that he saw at the start of this bout, and the fact that Mo'Gallile even sent her out at all was something he viewed as an insult
>but on the other hand, she had put up a very good fight, far more than he would have expected from her
>so while he was initially indignant at what happened, he couldn't really stay that way, which left him just staring at Arich in shock and uncertainty

Oceane !MrCarnage2 844211

File: 1414019417157.png (490.22 KB, 599x510, 156b6f74790f7caebf407d220f0461…)

>With his mounting anger lashing out at the specter of a dead girl, the girl's image became distorted and confused, the shadows dancing wildly around her feet seeming eat at her form until she resembled little more than a crayon drawing standing in the umbrage of Aelazandre's monument.

>And as she stood there, immobile, she spoke out in a voice whose frank starkness echoed in compassion to Deadpony's rant.

You're still here because Heroes don't die.

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 844263

File: 1414023210845.jpg (128.68 KB, 774x1032, deadpool_by_dorets-d4sa24z.jpg)

>A sound of broken glass fills Wade's mind. All sound had seemed to flee the area as soon as the ghost before him finishes her sentence. "Heroes never die", is that what she said? There was truth to these words. A universal constant so it seemed. All the greats had apparently died and come back at one point in their lives. Cap, Spider-man, Wolverine, every hero in this world seemed to pull the Jesus act at least once in their lives.

>But could Wade count himself amongst these people? Had any of them ever thought to do what he had done to earn such a title. Cap was a soldier, he had killed for his country before. Logan was a natural killing machine, he too seemed to be considered hero to many. But on such a scale, to wipe out an entire city, neigh the largest one on the planet. Could anyone who would so willingly do the deed be reguarded as a hero?

>He falls to his knees. His hands scrape against the hard concrete as they lazily drop to his side. It would not be long after that they would be placed before Wade as he leaned forward. His eyes swelling up as tears began to drip from them. His hands balling into fists, his fingertips losing skin as they are forced against the ground.

Then why....

>He mutters to himself as he looks down at the ground. His shadow hidden by the one cast from the monument before him.

...why didn't you come back?...

>His words muffled by a congestion blocking his throat. The very sound of his words sounding as if great effort was used just to speak through the sorrow he felt.

Oceane !MrCarnage2 844268

File: 1414024262612.gif (Spoiler Image,1.63 MB, 500x300, tumblr_n6d8jpr8lQ1txnxl8o1_r1_…)


. . .

>Silence fills the air, the girl cannot answer what Deadpony himself does not know and, somewhere, the man already knew this. He knew that this, all of this was but a figment of his own dementia, his guilt ridden mind trying to cope with its emotions by escaping a reality too harsh for it to withstand.

>How many sleepless nights had he gone through since he'd come back to life? How many hours had he stared at his own ceiling in blank through as he sought for the answer to questions that dogged him both day and night: the all powerful "Why me?". A question too grand for his own self, or anyone else to answer for him. A judgement cast down that one should live and others should die.

>And even as Deadpony knelled by the monument of his Sin all but consumed by his Survivor's Guilt; right there before him, the final scene of the girl he barely knew repeated itself in astonishing clarity as she pierced her own heart with the blade they had fought so hard to recover. Her face boasting the maddest of complexions as her mind and soul were ripped apart by the nature of the evil they had come to fight and inadvertingly completed the summoning of the Greatest of Beast.

>For awhile, it seemed that the scene repeated itself over and over in front of the man before it vanished just as quickly as it started. A whisper rising from deep inside him to answer to the question he had known all along but hadn't dared acknowledge.

Villains don't get second chances.

Deadpony!rjtGfDeadI 844279

>Villain's don't get second chances.

>The tears stop as his eyes widen. Was this true? Could it be possible? Plenty of villains had come back from whatever underworld they were thrown to. Even after his death, Captain Nazi had been risen time and time again to be thrown at him. Yes every time it had been at the hands of a master of dark magic, but he had been given more then one go at life nonetheless.

>But could it be possible? Did Oceane know the entire time about what would truely happen? She had pressed them on. She had made sure that at least one of them would see what she started through to the end. Was it all an act? If this was true why would she give Deadpony the key he needed to give him a shot at taking down the Eldrich Being?

>And yet it was all there. She was the one who led them to Alezandre. She was the one who took them to that far away bunker to retrieve the sword. The sword, did it perish along with her, or was it still there? She was the one who led them to the underground necropolis. She muttered the true name of the beast that emerged from the portal.

>Raising his torso so he could look up to the sky, Wade raises his hands above his head. The sudden possibility that the one he thought to be the true hero was the villain of this story was to great to bare silently. Opening his mouth he releases an earth shattering scream which echoed all around.


Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844890

>a new fighter entered the arena, straight from the manmade country of Barbarossa. They were quite small compared to most of the other fighters, just a inch or two below 5 feet. Wrapped up in a brown cloak that concealed their body, making it impossible to determine their gender But for writing purposes, I'm using female pronouns, since they're a girl.. They wore a mask on their face resembling a deer skull. They carried a wooden staff in their hands, taller than she was; a clear pitcher of water hung by the end of it, tied to it by ropes.

>they were one of the mysterious shamans that inhabited the island, the group as mysterious as this fighter.

So many people.

>her voice was quiet and soft.

Predicted the results. The result of this fight. Prediction: Inconclusive.

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844892

File: 1414191952241.png (121.15 KB, 375x750, tumblr_n9a0b9DYoB1rlzg8vo1_500…)

>On the other side, entering the Arena was the man who had previously appeared in far more formal attire. Doctor James Zanarkand now arrived in what appeared to be something of a battle suit with various odds and ends protruding from the outfit, though he wore such a ridiculous thing with the kind of demeanour that suggested it was the most normal thing in the world.

>Instead, he stretched and yawned, seeming as though he had only woken up in or around 30 minutes ago. Giving his face a bit of a smack to wake himself up, he gazed with lazy eyes over at the opponent across from him, raising a brow at their lack of anything he could call defining features aside from their small stature. By comparison, he was a particularly tall fellow.

Huh. Nothing immediately obvious... it might be fun to research you after all.

Referee!pinkie78Os 844898

>the referee was wearing much more typical clothes this time around, a casual dress shirt and slacks instead of any of the more outlandish attires he wore before
>what was more unusual, however, was him sitting in a wheelchair
>and instead of speakng, he would type on a small keyboard, which would result in a mechanical voice echoing through the speaker on the chair

This next battle has the representative of Barbarossa facing the representative of Mares.

>rather than lift his hands to gesture to the opponents, he would instead do nothing, just continuing to type

To my left is the fighter for Barbarossa, Shen-Mu.

And to my right is the fighter for Mares, Doctor James Zanarkand.

Fighters...you may begin.

Roll 1d2 = 2
>evens, Shen-Mu goes first
>odds, Zanarkand does

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844903

A doctor. I predicted. Enjoys research and study. That is what I predicted. Nothing more. It would be cheating.

>if James would to look closely at the eye holes in her mask, he'd notice that they were both grey and cloudy.

>yet she was staring at her opponen, as if she was aware of his presence. Maybe there is more than meets the eye with this girl.

Fight begins. Be ready.

>she tossed off her cloak, revealing her heavily tattoo'd body. Underneath the cloak, she only wore a cloth skirt and a top that covered her breasts and shoulders. From head to two she was covered in tribal tattoos.

>yet the strange thing about her, was her short blonde hair and snow white skin.. A trait that shouldn't be inherited by a shaman.

Try your best.

>she poured the water in the pitcher at the end of her staff out. It stopped in place, forming a ball of water, floating in the air in front of her.

>she thrusted her staff forward. The ball of water launched forward at high speed, forming a liquid spear

>evens [1d1000]

>regardless, the water soon returns to her, wrapping around her staff like a serpent.
This post was edited by its author on .

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844909

File: 1414194678096.png (219.78 KB, 450x678, 450px-LPPortrait.png)

>Finally, the experiment had begun. It seemed that the subject was a member of that 'Barbarossa' country that he'd only really started hearing of recently, around the time this tournament was still being organised in fact. This certainly had potential to be informative.

>Getting into gear a little bit, the tired look on the Doctor's face was swept away with curiosity as his opponent threw her cloak away. As she did, something about his clothing sparked up with purple energy, causing 6 small objects to begin to float freely behind him, yet still tethered to the suit by whatever means it was powered by.

Tattoos and symbolism suggesting a tribal origin... though that appearance certainly isn't stereotypical. Her manner of speech is far less fluid and organic than one might think.

>Mumbling to himself a little bit about his initial analysis, he couldn't help but give off a wide grin as he saw the water being formed, floating freely.

Oooh! Now that's interesting. Let me see if I can get a bit of that!

>As the ball of water launched as a spear, three of the floating objects would create a triangle, angling to get in the way.

Roll 1d1000 = 541
>Evens, and the spear passes through them unhindered and with seemingly no effect on the actual attack, though the three begin to show blinking purple LED lights.
>Odds, and he'd a little slow to react, the gateway not getting in the way fast enough.

>Regardless of the result, the Doctor rushes forward rather quickly, his grin intact. The other three objects floating behind him stayed still, not reacting at all as the glove of his suit crackles with energy.

Let's see how you react to a little test!

>Swinging the energised fist, he tries to connect it with Shen's body as it's the easiest target on the girl's small stature.

Roll 1d1000 = 79
>Evens, and it connects. There's very little outward damage aside from the gloved punch, but the energy creates a nasty shock directly aimed at her soul.
>Odds, failure.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844916

>Shen-Mu leaps back, dodging the attack.

You frighten me.

>the water moves off of her staff and collects above her, splitting into two orbs of water. Both of which she launched forward

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 79
>how many of the water spears hit Roll 1d2 = 1

>regardless, the spears don't return to her, they only splash on the ground, collecting into a puddle of water.

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844917

File: 1414195594220.jpg (255.91 KB, 800x739, 43611326.jpg)

Frighten you? Your tone of voice certainly doesn't seem that way!

>Due to the amount of time it took to collect those spears together, or perhaps because he had an incredible reaction speed, James hopped nimbly to the side of his initial position to dodge the spears.

>Roll 1d1000 = 858
>If Odds, the energy gate formed by the three objects gets in the way of the spear that was on target, beginning to flash brightly before one of them locks in with a solid glow, though once again it seems to do absolutely nothing to the attack itself.

You seem capable of avoiding telegraphed attacks, however.

>Once again the same fist, on the side of his body that the yet-unused objects were floating behind, crackled with energy, and he went for a punch - only this time he wasn't within melee range, having gained a short distance through his dodge.

>Instead, the energy formed into a shot at the end of the punch, aimed straight for Shen-Mu.
Roll 1d1000 = 760
>Odds, and the blast catches her, but there isn't any physical damage. Instead the shot delivers a bullet-like shock to her soul.
>Evens, miss.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844920

>Shen-Mu leaped backwards out of the way of the punch itself.


>she sidestepped the follow up shot. She made a note to watch out for that in the future.

Forces of nature. They're powerful. Wind and water. Can you muster against them?

>a gale of wind collected around her staff, as she thrusted her staff forward again, sending a wind blast at him

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 529
>evens it is strong enough to knock him off his feet Roll 1d1000 = 218 Odds, it only stumbles him.

>regardless, Shen-Mu goes in for a strike with her staff, hitting him while he's down if both earlier rolls were evens

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 237

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844925

File: 1414197086274.png (302.51 KB, 500x560, tumblr_n00m4o1xcb1trouxto1_500…)

Oh, yes, nature, powerful though it may be it is also very very old.

>As the wind blast is fired at him, all 6 of the devices shift in front of him before spinning like a small fan. It's not nearly enough to repel the blast, but it creates a small portion where the wind itself is lighter by diverting the air current, leaving the Doctor completely unscathed.

And the older something is, the longer we've had to observe, understand and research it!
What I'm far more interested in is just how you're managing to manipulate them so easily.

>The staff strike comes in at close range, which was interesting considering her earlier elemental assaults. Immediately the 6 object fan spreads out to her size, creating something of a gate linked together by energy.

Roll 1d1000 = 227
>Odds and as he nimbly dodges the blow, the gate passes by her and she can feel a very slight tingling sensation as it does, but nothing more. Two of them light up with a soft purple glow.

>Evens and the gate stays where it is, as he'd hoped she would press onward but had made an inaccurate assumption.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844927

>the shaman flinches at the gate, but shrugs it off.

>she raised her staff in the air, as the water from earlier rises off of the ground again, returning to Shen-Mu once more

It's simple. The simpler, the more refined. The more refined, the more room for power.

>she launched another water spear at him

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 588

>if successful, she swung her staff at him, a good distance away, launching a strong wind blast

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 738

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844931

File: 1414198248747.jpg (61.29 KB, 477x960, tumblr_nbb2fws2kV1thvr82o10_12…)

Ah, refinement! Why, that's exactly what I've been doing right he-!!

>The next water spear came a little more quickly than the rest. Breaking the gate apart, he reformed a large purple barrier just in front of him as the spear came into contact, this one a lot more physical than the gentle light seen before-

>But it didn't exactly help. The instant the spear hit the barrier the purple energy shattered, the force of it sending him skidding backwards as the spear itself sliced nastily through his suit, making a deep gash in his left shoulder.

-Tch!! That power output is ridiculo-

>Only to have the initial assault be followed up by another wind blast, catching him whilst he was still recovering from shock and sending him, as well as all his equipment, hurtling into the air and knocking him all the way back to the edge of the arena, the combination of everything that happened simply leaving him in a daze.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844933

It is done. The tides of fate. They are changing. In favor of myself

>she twirled her staff in the air and planted it upright on the ground. A powerful gale of wind rushed towards James

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 393

>if successful, evens it is strong enough to push him over the edge Roll 1d1000 = 415

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844938

File: 1414199220523.png (219.06 KB, 650x539, SkillLPFull.png)

>As the assault was made, James already seemed to be stirring from the blow. Though he had taken a nasty wound, the concussive blow wasn't strong enough to keep him down - he could thank his carefully developed armour for that.

Ahaha... I see. The power output is greater than I thought. Let's try shifting more of the energy into brute force!

>Getting to his feet, a small shockwave of energy caused the devices to reactivate, quickly forming the same method of avoiding the wind as before and allowing him to push through, away from the ring's edge. However, instead of going back into their former positions of three and three, all six placed themselves almost as an extension of his uninjured right arm and began to spin, coursing energy between them.

I think you'll find this element a little shocking!

>Kicking off into a leap to close the gap, the swirling energies only grew until he was at a particularly close range. Once he was, he threw out another punch-like motion, only this time the fist was followed up by a much larger and more intense blast of the mysterious purple energy, almost like a short-duration beam headed straight for Shen-Mu

Roll 1d1000 = 72
>Odds, and the blast connects, though once again there's very little physical damage compared to the shock directly aimed for her soul.
>Evens, failure.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844945

>Shen-Mu moved out of the way in time. Despite her inability to see, she appeared to know where James was, and used the sound of the attack to move out of the way.

That was a joke. Wasn't it? Shocking has two meanings. That's funny.

>she tapped her staff on the ground and created a gust of wind below her, strong enough to cause her to go airborne.

>as she descended, she went for downward a strike with staff, aimed for his collarbone.

>Evens Roll 1d1000 = 567

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844951

File: 1414200652611.jpg (89.88 KB, 1000x900, tumblr_n6g3s9AIQ51rl08zzo6_128…)

Wow, you nature types really are pretty stiff or something.

>That tone of voice just didn't suit someone who used the elements, he expected more hippy-like intonations or something more stereotypical. On the flipside, that just made her more interesting to study.

Aaah! Using that power for utility's sake! That's quite an impressive jump!

>Once again, however, as she went in for the melee attack he brought the 6 floating dynamos in front, still cooling down from the discharge earlier, and once again formed the low-powered gate along her trajectory.

Roll 1d1000 = 349
>Odds, he catches her just right and once again she feels that tingling sensation, the unlit objects begin to blink incessantly before two of them lock in, holding a steady glow.

Thankfully, her aerial assault was easy to dodge with a sidestep because of how high she'd gone, but with the dynamos having set up along her path and still charging he couldn't yet bring about a follow-up attack.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844956

>at the tingling sensation, seh cringes. She didn't enjoy it. It felt so artificial and unnatural. She couldn't stand things that didn't come from nature, metal being one of those.

What are you doing?

>she was too close to him. She had to get distance. She tapped her staff on the ground and created a gust around herself, trying to push James away and herself back

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 113

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844958

File: 1414201394239.jpg (158.34 KB, 768x1024, 44670274_p1.jpg)


>The comment was awfully cheery for someone who supposedly thought of themselves as a serious analyst and researcher, but as the battle went on he seemed to be growing much more loose, much like the state of the screws in his head.

>Four wasn't quite perfect, but it was over half. Perhaps with this his assaults would start to prove a little more effective against her techniques, though that remained to be seen given how nimble she seemed to be. His left arm was still in pain and bleeding as well, so nothing was 100% reliable. Even so, his desire to test the current state of his analysis proved stronger than his doubt.

>Once more the glove alone crackled with energy, and he was managing to keep up with her through what could almost be considered lunatic determination. Even when her wind barrier was up, he threw the punch her way.

Roll 1d1000 = 506
>Odds, and his fist manages to somehow force it's way through the defensive cyclone and connect with her body, showing a great deal of improvement from before. A nasty energy blasts away at her soul whilst leaving little else behind.
>Evens, and the windy barricade still manages to deflect his attack. It seemed perfection was the only answer.

Shen-Mu!MEOWKdWFcQ 844961

>the wind soon disperses.


>she took a few steps back before holding her staff in the air again, the water from earlier came back to her staff, but smaller this time; it was starting to lose bits of itself bit by bit, her water magic can only do so much

>the ball of water split into several separate orbs, ten of them in total, which Shen-Mu launched at her opponent, the high speed water blasts acting like darts

>evens Roll 1d1000 = 339
>how many hit Roll 1d10 = 8
>if successful and 5 or more hit, she launches a wind blast at him.
>evens Roll 1d1000 = 719

Doctor James Zanarkand!pR.BaFF/uk 844965

File: 1414202634442.png (135.12 KB, 500x300, tumblr_n7sq6oki2X1rfq9slo2_500…)

>The water spears again, it seemed. At least these were more physical than the wind techniques, there was data to be gained even if it was minimal. Bringing the dynamos back into position, they had finally recovered, though he didn't intend to use them for anything crazy just yet. Instead, he once again brought the 3 left dynamos to the front - with so many spears, he was bound to get something.
Roll 1d1000 = 411
>Odds, and several of the shot spears fire through the miniature gateway, causing the remaining two to flash momentarily before one of them locked in.

>The problem was how to actually avoid getting hit by so many, given that the gate didn't do anything but scan. Then again, by splitting the force into tiny components, they lessened in strength - this was something he could handle. The other three dynamos became charged, forming a large and solid triangular shield he could hide behind, three of the spears hitting but doing nothing to it.

You're pretty curious yourself! But, while things look like they're slowing down for you, I'm still waiting for my perfect moment.

>With the energy still charged, he changed the shield formation of the three dynamos to place them around his right glove, using what remained of the shield energy to form a soul-bolt shot in the direction of Shen-Mu, though only the one, and not as imposing as the previous blast.

Roll 1d1000 = 79
>Odds, and Shen-Mu finally gets the soul-shocking experience she'd managed to avoid the entire battle.
>Evens, another missed shot.