A Game of Gods Season 3: Nemesis

All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts...

- William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act II Scene VII

I mean, the Bard's cool and all, no denying that. But is there any way we could freshen it up, making it hipper? Connect it with the kids more, y'know?

- Matt Bale, Executive Producer, Nemesis

---

The darkness of the conference room died a brutal death as the room lit up from the sudden appearance of a 30-something in an exquisitely tailored suit. The room's lights flickered on soon after, and the screens built into the walls erupted in a cacophony of light and sound before self-muting. The man turned to the empty room, and glared.

"Sixty minutes to air. All producers report for final checks."

The room grew brighter again as the seats around the table soon filled with more 30-something men and women, each and every one doing their best to imitate the first man's dress sense. Or he was imitating them. Or maybe they were all imitating someone else. To any observers, the light emanating from everyone in the room would soon give the secret away, if the erratic, jerky movements of the heads of the producers didn't: not a single one was actually in the room. It was a conference of holograms.

"Christ, Bale." One of them remarked. "You think you were some sort of drill sergeant with that attitude."

The first man, Bale, only glared at him for a moment before turning to a young woman. "Andrews, how's the pre-show going?"

"We're running second-perfect." Andrews responded. "Kimball and McDermot ran overtime on their interviews, so we cut some of the celebrity chatter down. McTrustworthy should be taking to the couch in fifteen seconds."

"And the interviewers?"

"We've got Williams and Hamilton contracted for the commentary channel through the next five years. Audience reception is high so far, ratings figures great but expected to rise as McTrustworthy comes on."

"Speaking of the kid, Thompson?"

"He's still got some hesitation when we feed him information, but it's the best we've got." The man, Thompson, said. “He has his prewritten lines and responses down, completely natural sounding. The genetic modification is still holding, but he's still not completely comfortable with it."

"Why did we make him a catboy again?" The second man interrupted once more.

"Ask Edwards, he's marketing." Thompson replied.

"Analysts are predicting that feline/human hybrids will have a surge in popularity soon, with the trend reaching its peak five years from now. By the time that happens, Liberty will be grandfathered in as an iconic part of the show, and be considered one of the beginners of the trend." Edwards rattled off.

"The psychologists also predict that feline/human hybrids trigger feelings of protectiveness and the paternal love sectors. Effectively, the heroes and villains will think he's cute." A woman piped up.

"Speaking of our contestants," Bale said, taking control of the conversation back. "Monroe, how are they?"

The same woman as before responded. "Sedatives and sleep inducers are working perfectly, but some of these guys have needed large enough doses to kill everyone in this building. Regenerators." She explained. "The time-release epinephrine should flush the sleep out of their system just before McTrustworthy is scheduled to enter, but the stasis fields will stop them doing anything but looking around until he makes the release call. We've got a good mix, should be a bunch of contrasting personalities even within the teams."

"Great. Anderson?"

"The last contractors have moved out of the house and the forcefields are online. They can break the furniture, but not the fittings, and if they try and fly off the balcony they'll be shocked back. The cloaked micro-cameras are in place, we've got angles on everything but the bathroom stalls, the shower stalls and the sauna."

"Why don't you have angles on them? I mean, even if we don't broadcast it, we could make them DVD extras. Nemesis Gone Wild." The second man asked again.

"Apart from the privacy laws-"

"That we could pay the fines for breaching."

"Marketing shows that the audience prefers it when the contestants aren't afraid to shower or poop."

"How would they know?"

"They'd guess around the time McTrustworthy started to stink."

"So? Lie to him."

"We can't." Thompson interrupted. "Ocular implant. He's got picture in picture, with the live feed streaming into his eyeball."

"Norton, if you'd stop looking for nudes of the contestants for long enough to brief us on the location..." Bale interrupted.

Norton, the second, constantly interrupting man, shot Bale a grin.

"Ain't my fault most of them are hardbodies. Anyway, we got 33% chance of materialisation."

"33%? That's the best you can do?"

"We're lucky to get over 2% on any given day. 33% is our best shot at doing this in one shot." He grinned at rest of the room. "And putting all of you out jobs."

"If we do it in one shot, you won't get your hardbody nudes." Bale shot back.

"That's a price I'm willing to pay, Bale."

---

The Heroes and Villains would wake up standing. That was probably their first clue that something was completely wrong.

The second clue was probably the fact that their bodies were completely locked in place. The only thing they could actively move were their eyes. Even their mouths and tongues were clamped shut, and all sounds they attempted to make muted.

The third clue was their surroundings.

The two teams stood in hallway, each team facing the other, their backs to the walls. It was a nice-looking hallway, reclaimed wood flooring and brick walls painted white, both ends capped off with full-length windows. It was tall enough and wide enough to drive a two eighteen-wheelers through, side-by-side, with room to spare.

In front of the windows were giant metal arches, each reaching the ceiling. To the right of the villains (and the left of the heroes) there were two arches, one glistening gold, the other a dull grey. At the other end of the hall stood a single arch, this one a shining silver.

The rest of the hallway was relatively plain. Behind the Villains sat three sets of giant double doors. The doors in the middle were painted green, the ones to their right were black with red accents, and the ones to their left were white with blue accents.

The was nothing behind the Heroes but plain wall- at least, for those nearest the silver arch. For the half nearest the gold and grey arches, there was no wall at all. Behind them was a lounge containing a variety of couches, sofas and loveseats, even a pair of chairs large enough to seat giants. Scattered among them were coffee tables and reading lamps, a few freestanding bookcases, and in the center of it all, a single pool table. Those villains who standing within meters of the Gold and Grey arches (coincidentally, those whose names began with the letters nearing the end of the alphabet) could peer around the corner to see a kitchen and dining room.

And beyond it all were three entire walls of windows, and a balcony nearly as large as the apartment itself. The balcony was divided in half, one half (the half nearest the kitchen) being some sort of astroturfed field, and the other a hotel-sized swimming pool, with some sort of hut in the far-right corner, and a hot tub in the far left.

However, they wouldn't have long to take all this in: around five seconds or so. After that, the Silver Arch began to crackle with electricity, bolts shooting out and meeting in the center. With a mighty roar, a bright, white hole in reality was torn asunder. Soon, the roar of the portal gave way to the cheers of a crowd.

And a catboy stepped out.

The portal shut behind him, and the absence of such a bright light gave everyone a good look at him. He was tall, thin, and gangly. His brown hair was cut short, and the suit he wore was a tasteful navy. His slightly-emaciated face and the stubble would immediately put the words "struggling actor" in the minds of anyone who understood the concept. If it wasn't for the fact that his ears and tail were moving, the fact that they were orange would make you think they were fake.

"Hello! And! Welcome! To the greatest reality show in the Multiverse: Nemesis! Where we'll be pitting some of the mightiest heroes from across the Multiverse against some it's most dastardly villains! They'll be facing each other in challenges of skill! Wit! And determination! Where the full extent of their deadly arts can be used with no remorse! Because thanks to Richard Kimball's patented BOC Resurrection system, they don't have to fear the reaper!"

The boy- man, really, walked down the hall towards the second set of portals, talking to his invisible audience all the while. Those who paid attention to his gait could see how he was very visibly compensating for the added weight of his tail, and not in a natural way either.

"And when they're not killing each other to win challenges, earning prizes, avoiding punishments and gaining points so that their team can win the grand prize, they're killing each other over bathroom privileges, as they share this beautiful apartment!"

The fake, cheesy smile on his face died for a moment, and he glanced nervously at the assembled heroes and villains, before affixing the smile once more and staring back at his invisible camera. It seemed that they had cut away from him to show the apartment.

"I'm Liberty Mc Trustworthy, but you all know that. Before we release them from their stasis fields, let's introduce you to our Heroes and Villains."

He jogged back up the Silver Arch, before standing next to the Villain nearest it, Albert Wesker. He worked his way down the hall, introducing each Hero and Villain and giving the "audience" (and the heroes and villains themselves) facts about each:

"This man thinks he's a god, and with that body, who can blame him? His name is Albert Wesker!"
"Meet Andromeda Shun! He prefers the Milky Way!"
"This would-be conquerer is famous for getting his invasion forces routed by a plumber on over a dozen occasions! Meet Bowser, King of the Koopa Kingdom!"
"Anna Testarossa likes guns, guns, and more guns. You can call her Rose if you're feeling brave enough!"
"No matter which way you slice him, this is one creepy guy! He's Buggy The Clown!"
"chaos might look young, but he's actually so old he predates capital letters!"
" Meet Cy-Kill, of the Go-Bot race! His species have won the "Worst at naming things" award thirty years in a row!"
"Good thing Chun Li's an Interpol Agent, because those legs are weapons of mass destruction!"
"Diego Brando likes to live life in the fast lane, but he prefers the horse to the car. Call him "Dio", but be warned: if you're too slow, he won't even know you exist!"
"Meet CM Punk. Punk by name, jackass by nature."
"Evan Sabah-Nur may not look like much, but deep down he has the potential to be the worst villain of them all!"
"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne is so good with the ladies, he once charmed a girl away from a guy whose last name was literally 'Mc Cool'."
"Hollywood Hulk Hogan is not to be confused with the not-so-jolly green giant. Don't mention the lawsuit to him, he hasn't reached that point in his timeline."
"And it is, it is a glorious thing, to be Eve the Nasod Warrior Queen!"
" He might be artificial, but that won't stop this bloodsucker from draining you! He's Jan Valentine!"
"Is there a doctor in the house? Because you're gonna need one once Fran Madraki is through with curing what ails you."
"This is Juri Han. Don't try and share a bed with her, she kicks in her sleep. And while awake."
"Gemini Sunrise. She's a cowgirl with a katana. Best of both worlds."
"Kage hails from the dark reaches of the 41st Century, and even in those grim dark time he's considered bad enough for the penal battalion."
"His sensei may be of of the toughest guys around, but Genos here falls apart on a regular basis!"
" He's a priest, who's also a demon, and once impersonated the Pope to incite a holy war! His name is Kirei Kotomine!"
"Harry Dresden is considered an act of god by Chicagoan insurance companies."
"Despite Medicine Melancholy's name, she's hardly good for your health!"
"Meet Jane Doe. He's so good at killing Nazis, he didn't stop fighting World War Two until 1949!"
"This is Myotismon! He's Batman, if Batman was evil and also a digital monster. So not like Batman at all, really."
" He might look badly hurt already, but Joshua Graham may be the toughest son-of-a-bitch this side of the Hoover Dam."
"Nicodemus is an actual, not-so-honest-to-god Fallen Angel who once accidentally made a holy sword stronger."
"Lena Oxton managed to turn a disability she received in a training accident into a superpower! Call her by her codename: Tracer!"
"This little guy is Peketo. Red like roses fills his dreams, and it's your blood that's red like roses."
"Meet Mama- Mamizow- Manatee- Mamizou Futatsuiwa! That complicated, we're almost sure it's her real name this time."
"Meet Reaper. He is actually crawling in his skin, and his wounds they will not heal. I'm not kidding, he is walking Linkin Park lyrics."
"He's a supersoldier who specializes in singlehandedly wiping out alien armadas and killing beings straight out of Lovecraft. His name is John, but he'd prefer that you'd call him the Master Chief."
"Rock "Quintet" Light truly embodies the saying that you either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."
"A former world conquerer who's seen the error of her ways and strives to atone, meet Menardi of Prox!"
"He hates you, he hates me, how did Sagras Ruk become a general again?"
"This fella's gonna be a hit with the guys at pool parties, and a hit with he girls in the hot tub, he's Ranma Saotome!"
"A clone of the best soldier ever, you might know Solidus Snake more as George Sears, the 43rd President of the United States!"
"Tune in Japanophiles, we have a bonafide 100% Japanese (if you ignore her Finnish ancestry) Tsundere! Her name is Rin Tohsaka!"
"He's a magical assassin, loving father, and one-time world conquerer! His name is Tesseract!"
"Despite the fact she's basically naked, is part of a group called Nudist Beach, and fights people by cutting their clothes off, Ryuko Matoi here is actually seventeen. Quickly moving on..."
"Tira here once lived in Windsor Castle, and used to be the squire of Nightmare, a knight who wanted nothing more than to destroy the world!"
"She might not have the best pokerface, but Sakura Kinomoto always has an ace up her sleeve."
"For Wulfrik The Wanderer, a curse by the gods of chaos has become one of his greatest assets, and he worships them accordingly."
"He's spectacular, he's amazing, he's never met Mephisto so don't ask, he's Spider-Man!"
"It's the big blue boyscout himself, Superman!"
"Teppei Ushizume may look small, but when he grows up, you won't be making short jokes."
"Did you know that Tsuyu Asui can vomit up her stomach to clean it? That is completely disgusting."
"She's literally a nobody, and her name is Xion!"
"Yumil here is an expert coder, enough to make reality look like virtual reality."

"And with that out of the way..."

He raised a hand with three fingers up, and punctuated the next words with a drop of each finger.

"Three! Two! One! Release!"

And as if by magic, control of their bodies was returned to the Heroes and Villains.

---

Map of the House.◊

edited 6th Jul '16 3:07:05 AM by GeekCodeRed

They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!

The Tenno cell that left a trail of bodies in their wake was awfully confused. The Lotus had directed them to this particular Grinner galleon, saying that General Sargas Ruk, the famous crusher of the insubordination of Saturn, was present on-board. They arrived at the command room and cleaned it from its occupants, but Ruk wasn't there.

---

The moment he came to, Sargas Ruk started to struggle against his restraints, but to no avail. His rage only increased when the little human-with-Valkyr-tail doubted his credentials. How dare he!
Of course, control was returned to him in the middle of a particularly violent thrash; losing his balance, the cyborg fell to one knee, roaring in frustration.

The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground

Peter Parker's first instinct to being released is to feel if his mask is still on. Once he feels it on his face, the heroes close to him can hear a quiet breath of relief. OK so nobody will know I'm Peter Parker. Sure I'll be asked to unmask for ratings but I should be fine. Just need to figure out what the hell it is this time for poor ol' Parker. Another Beyonder game? No, he wouldn't have furries unless he's learned some strange shit about humanity. Wait no I was chatting with Wolverine recently and he mentioned...oh no I'm in the Mojoverse. Don't walk out the door of the apartment, there's probably something to eat you.

Thinking he's figured it out, Parker's body seems to lighten as he speaks "So yeah as the catman said, I'm your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. You know, that guy who the Daily Bugle says is a masked menace and the worst threat New York's ever seen and the like. Yeah, that guy." Spider-Man suddenly looks to Hogan clearly surprised and seeming like something's dawned to him. "Hey Crusher, nice to see you again! How'd you get the right to Hulk's name? I mean the jolly green giant doesn't have a law firm. HULK SIGN CONTRACT! HULK GIVE YOU RIGHTS TO NAME!" If Bruce hears me say that one I might be smashed.

To Be Updated when I'm not Lazy

Coaltown. Outskirts of Teufort.

The sun set on a dusty alleyway choked with the broken remains of robots. Bits and pieces of blue-grey metal littered the rocky landscape, the last remains of the 432nd wave of robots bent on blowing Barnabus Hale’s legendary tourist trap straight to hell ^note  and possibly beyond hell. Grey Mann was rich. He’d find a way. . A lone figure, clad in a homemade military uniform and an ill-fitting helmet- picked his way through the robotic carnage, battered shotgun hefted over his shoulder. “I hope you ‘’robots’’ have learned your lesson –“ he picked up a head and glared into its dead eyes, as though he was making a point – “there is not a robot alive that can defeat me!”

“‘Ey, Soldier! Me and Spy are goin’ out to make sure all these-“ The scrawny Bostonian poked his head up from over the bulwarks of one crummy boarded-up building. “Just to make sure that all these robots bit it, yeah?”

“Affirmative.” The Soldier snapped to attention, clanking one fist against his ill-fitting helmet. “I will cook a meal of nourishing military-rationed soup for tonight.” He paused and looked around, as if he was waiting for someone to challenge him on his cooking prowess. “There is nothing wrong with a man cooking soup! Soup is a manly meal!”

“Tabernac, Soldier, enough with your soup. ‘’I’’ will cook something when we return.” Spy popped another cigarette into his mouth and gratefully partook of its contents.

“Yeah, Solly!" Scout tried not to gag as he remembered the previous meal. “You put a boot in the soup last night!”

“The recipe did not call for enough leather! Soup should be fortified with 100% pure leather!”

“Look, Soldier,” came the voice of the Engineer, who was absent-mindedly stripping the wires out of the remains of a robotic Medic, “how ‘bout y’all keep guard ‘til those boys get back. I gotta bad feelin’ that Gray Mann ain't turned tail just yet."

“Roger that! I will take the first shift of sentry duty! Salty Pete will take the second shift!” He pointed to a cardboard cutout that leaned lamely against the wall.

“Soldier-“

“Iron Eye will take the third shift!” He pointed to another cutout, which was being pooped on by a nearby crow. “Wait! Get away from Iron Eye! Pepper Pot Pete! Do something!”

“Soldier, why don’ch’all –"

There was silence. Soldier was gone.

“-And that is- mmmmmm mmm m m mmmmm!“ there was a pause before Soldier realized that he wasn’t exactly where he was a few seconds ago. Whatever that meant quickly flew out of his mind when he realized that he was restrained and incapable of moving, squirming helplessly against the restraints and doing his best to scream while a weird man started rattling off a massive list of names. Mumbo-jumbo names. Communist names, even.

The moment the combatants had control restored to their bodies, Soldier dropped to the floor, pulling out his shotgun and pointing it at the nearest person ^note  who happened to be Myotismon.

“What is going on?” he screamed. “This is a trick! It is a robot trick! You cannot fool, me, you... robotic vampire! I am un-foolable! You cannot fool me on the beaches! You cannot fool me in the trenches! As God is my witness, you cannot fool me in places that do not even have beaches... or trenches! And I will snap each and every one of your girly necks until I get a lawyer-“ There was a pause as the reality of what he was being asked to do sank in.

"Did he say kill? Okay! Listen to me, vampire: I am going to kill you. The cat-man told me to." Soldier grinned, cracked his knuckles and pulled out a collapsible shovel as a makeshift stake.

---

The planet Quartex. Low orbit.

“A lucky escape, I should say!” The hulking red creature of living rock turned and lumbered towards the control panel that sat at the bridge of the diminutive triangular ship. "Not even you knew about that secret escape tunnel, eh, Cy-Kill? Were it not for me, you’d be up to your positrons in molten rock! And since you've clearly demonstrated that you are unfit to lead,I, Magmar, nominate myself for the newest leader of the Renegades!”

The tall, brilliantly-coloured mechanoid slouched at the back of the ship, watching the distant stars, mulling over his most recent defeat- a particularly humiliating rout that involved a combiner war gone awry. Oh, he'd rebuild his forces... and then Cy-Kill would relish getting his hands on every single Guardian he could find. He’d stomp Scooter – that wretched whiner of a Guardian – flat under one foot. He’d total Turbo, wreck Wrong Way, mash Man-O-War, mangle Major Mo… oh, and he’d save the very best for Leader-1, that pompous, blithering do-gooder. If he ever got his hands on that sneering, cloying… if he ever got one of his clamps on that jet-headed dolt, there’d be no end to the misfortunes his old friend would suffer.

But first, housecleaning. The Renegade-in-exile rose from his seat and stared down his rocky compatriot. “And that’s what you think, is it?" he growled. "Your incompetence led us into this predicament, you molten moron! My Renegades in shambles, your ragtag Rock Lords in prison – and you think that you can simply waltz into my ship and seize command of the Renegades?” Cy-Kill jabbed one clamp-like hand at Magmar to accentuate his point.

“Hah! It’s a miracle we managed to get your junkpile of a ship off the ground!”

“Silence, you igneous idiot!”

“You cowardly contraption!” Magmar grabbed his gnarled stone flail and advanced on the GoBot. “Afraid that I’ll finish what we started on Quartex?! Show some spirit, Cy-Kill!”

“I’ll break you down and pave a highway with your remains, you blithering boulder!” Cy-Kill raised his own fist and took aim at the blustering Rock Lord. Magmar roared and ploughed forward with the force of a runaway avalanche – and Cy-Kill returned fire, his energy blaster firing full tilt – and –and –

And then, for the second time in a year, Cy-Kill was abruptly yanked out of his home reality. Rather rude, all things considered, he thought crossly as his body hurtled across the levels and materialized elsewhere.

Bah. By the Master Renegade, not again… The Renegade conqueror, unable to see or move, did his best to size up the surroundings... and the colorful characters that surrounded him. The décor was... odd, by GoBot standards.. A little too remniscient of that muckball Earth for his taste. He ignored the jibe about his culture's naming conventions. What did mere humans know about the vaunted cultural heritage of great Gobotron, anyway?

Cy-Kill sighed inwardly as the strange humanoid pontificated at length about why he had abducted him from across the multiverse. This had already happened to him several times. Every time it ended the same way - the two teams inevitably united to destroy their captor. It was at that time that the restraints were released - Cy-Kill flexed one mechanical muscle and clenched his clamp-like grippers with a satisfying clank.

The cyborg warrior looked at the individuals nearest him. Certainly a colourful bunch, no doubt. There were humans among them, and what might be charitably called primitive GoBots – other organic species crawling their way up the evolutionary ladder to achieve mechanical perfection. Yet… these weren’t the kind of individuals who looked keen on spouting Leader-1’s tripe about the value of harmony and friendship – disgusting. No, no, these were proper warriors. The seeds of a new Renegade army, even.

“Who dares stand in the presence of Cy-Kill, conqueror of Gobotron and the most powerful GoBot of them all?!” he roared, pointing one crackling fist at chaos.

edited 3rd Jul '16 8:05:12 PM by Locoman

As soon as Tracer was released, she grasped the chronal accelerator on her chest. She then zipped over towards a couple of the others who had been assembled, looking them over.

"Blimey, what's all this then?" Tracer muttered, in her Cockney accent, looking completely and utterly baffled. She smiled, despite the fact that she had been abducted from where she had been from previously.

She looked sternly over at Reaper. It seemed like she wasn't the only person from her universe that had been taken. At least she didn't have to work with Reaper, for now. She decided instead to ask the source.

She blinked over next to the cat-man who introduced them. "What's all this?" she repeated. "Some sort of challenge? I like challenges but I've never heard of one like this..." she murmured, crossing her arms and tapping one of her feet.

I can still hail the Horde even though the company has shamed us. Strength and Honor even if Blizzard has neither.

"Memories of you and me will always be together forever, inside him..."

...

...I'm not dead.

This was Xion's first thought as she woke up. As she looked around and realized her situation, this thought continued playing in a loop in her head. She was mostly blank as even as things went on and Liberty talked, realizing that her sacrifice, everything she fought for, everything she had sacrificed her very existence for...

It was all for nothing. Sora could not awaken with her here.

As soon as she was released, she ran up to Liberty. "No, no, no, send me home right now, Sora needs me now!"

please call me "XionKuriyama" or some variation, thanks! | What is the good deed that you can do right now?

Yumil

"I... I have no idea what any of that meant," Yumil muttered, flipping through the Book of Prophecy in hopes that he had recorded something in there that would help him figure out what was going on... alas, nothing.

"Um, I think he said we've been taken into another world to be part of some sort of game?" Suggested a green-clothed fairy-like woman floating by Yumil's shoulder.

"We all got that much, Mieli. That's not what Yumil's talking about, is it?" Chided a red-clothed fairy boy, floating just beside the first fairy.

"Um, well, I kind of actually didn't get that. I really don't know much compared to you spirits, right? Thanks, Mieli. But Rempo's kind of right, that isn't all I don't understand."

Yumil absently chewed the feathered end of his quill pen, lost in though. Not pondering all the alien things around him, but rather, that all these people had been stolen from their homes and forced to take part in some twisted game, all for the entertainment of mindless thousands of people. How... typical. This was nothing like anything he'd ever known, yet, exactly like everything he'd ever known. It was both validating and disheartening to know that, even on other worlds, sentient beings were always so... awful.

His thoughts also turned to the so-called 'villains.' Where they really that bad? Or unjustly accused, as he'd been?

Lost in thoughts, Yumil wandered away to scan some of the strange things he'd seen, hoping to get some idea of what was going on, while the Four Spirits conferred among themselves.

Quintet

At the tired old quote given to describe him, Quintet really couldn't help but laugh. Except he could, because he was paralyzed and couldn't laugh at all. Whoops. Well, it wasn't like it wasn't an accurate description of him.

He didn't dwell on that, though. His mind was racing. These people... had the power to resurrect the dead. And not just convenient robot deaths where the control chip was still intact - any death.

Roll.

If he could just... she'd be...

When the stasis dropped, Quintet really did laugh. Not quite for the same reasons as he'd at first wanted to, though. Fine! He'd play along! Anything for the opportunity to bring the dead back. Doctor Light was gone, as was everyone else from his timeline, but he'd saved what was left of Roll - Reader and Writer were working on her now - so if he could just take that technology for himself...

With a grin, he turned his attention to everyone else. He probably didn't look like much right now, wearing a white sweater and green cargo pants instead of his Mega Man V armor, but heck, he'd try and make an impression anyway.

"Alright, this sounds fun!" He grinned, "I could do with a little fun. Haven't got a lot of that recently."

"....I would had preferred if there weren't any cameras."

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 stared at the multitude of people near him and the large crowd as he was released from his hold. Multiverse kidnapping..and there is quite an interesting crowd of people and alien species...he just hoped they wouldn't be as hostile as the Covenant were.

The fact that he would be stuck on some kind of TV show annoyed him, he never was the one to enjoy the attention. He just hoped Cortana was safe in the Forward Unto Dawn, and she would be found by the UNSC. Seems like she won't be able to wake him up when she needed him.

---

Reaper growled internally at the cat-man introduction about him, but his focus was already on one person. The best friend of that damn monkey who almost killed him when he attempted to gain the location of all members of Overwatch in Watchpoint: Gibraltar.

Tracer.

As soon as he was released from the hold, he merely stared back at Tracer's stern gaze, his arms crossed. "This time, there won't be an overgrown monkey to save you from me, little wretch..." He chuckled darkly as he finished.

Tira-Prepare for the first shots

Tira, trapped as she was, was unable to outwardly react to the events suddenly unfolding. Inwardly, however, was a different story.

Fucking cocksucking cat fuck, I'm going to take your fucking tail and make you eat it alive while you scream and beg for mercy, you fucking....

Suffice it to say, Gloomy was not taking it well. Jolly, used to Gloomy's rage a she was, was not as scared as she might have been, rather feeling sorry for the cat-thing that was now the target of her rage. Then she noticed Gavrill was not among their number, and grew quite sad, not quite picking up on the presence of her "Sister" at the moment. It was about this time she dropped to the ground. Any who looked over at Tira would see her face fall as Gloomy took control, an expression of pure, undying rage and homicidal intent clear as she glared at the cat-man with enough anger to kill. Not even bothering to get out of the crouch she had fallen into, she lifted Soulgun, taking aim.

You're dead, you cat fuck!

The sounds of gunfire broke out as Tira fired on Liberty. I don't give a rats ass about your stupid reality crap, send us back to Gavrill or I'll make you regret ever being fucking born!

Wesker-A more subtle approch

Wesker regained his senses quickly as the annoncer appeared and began to talk. By the time he began to introduce the "contestants", he had picked up on the idea. A simple game, played by foolish mortals (his warped worldview refusing to accept some cat-man could ever in any way be superior to him) who thought they could contain a god. As he started going through the names and faces, however, Wesker considered. None of these faces were known to him, and if even half of these people had been active somewhere on Earth, he would have heard of it. His interest began to rise as he looked on the more....inhuman of the people around him. There was opportunity here. Opportunity to improve on his work, gather combat data as the inevitable clashes began. and ready himself for a second round with his archnemesis, who he was slightly displeased to see was not among the numbers of this "Hero" team.

He was freed, and landed on the ground. He rose, dusting his coat off and readjusting one of his gloves. People on both sides started to pose questions. Wesker choose to remain silent and quietly observe. Then one crudely dressed woman snapped, and opened fire on the host. Wesker turned, guessing that this man was likely prepared for this, given how well he seemed to know everyone in the room, and waited to see his reaction.

Quintet

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

As soon as the gun started firing, Quintet was between the madwoman and their 'gracious' host (as well as the girl in the black coat who'd been standing just a little too close), Leaf Shield up. He hadn't been able to stop the first couple shots, but the Leaf Shield thankfully prevented any more bullets from landing, as they hit the energy barrier and bounced off harmlessly, robbed of nearly all their momentum.

He hadn't had time to change into his armor, though, and he had to wait until he could let the Leaf Shield down to do that. That was a problem, because this body wouldn't be able to take more than a minute, at the absolute maximum, before it broke down from the strain. There was already a little smoke coming from his back.

"C'mon, let's not kill the guy, can we? It's not like his corpse will send you back home." He was flippant in both voice and posture behind the Leaf Shield. He tapped his forehead with his finger and made an expression of surprise, as if just remembering something.

"Oh! Right! Not that it matters much anyway, since he and his cohorts - I assume he's got those - can bring back the dead."

Sakura was freed from her bonds and promptly fell face flat on the floor.

A little winged lion plush struggled to haul itself from underneath the young teen.

Once freed he began to haul on her ear.

"C'mon Sakura get up! We don't know how many people could be watching! Besides this is not how a Cardcaptor acts in the face of potential danger."

Groggily Sakura picked herself up and yawned. She was asleep before she was taken. At least that's what she remembered. She dusted off her pink dress, now just realizing she had fallen asleep in it. Her pupils suddenly went small as she started checking her pockets.

"'WHERE IS''- oh here."

She let out an exasperated sigh as she produced a red and gold book emblazoned with a mighty winged lion.

"I still have the cards. Thank Clow for that."

She looked over the motely crew that was assembled before her. Most were way older than her. A few of them like that skullface one looked especially dangerous.

Her eyes fell on Mcwhatever his name was. She got daggers at him and produced a card. She straightened her back and cleared her throat, trying her best to look and sound like an adult.

"What kind of sick, twisted person are -EEEP!"

She cowers and covers her ears as gunshots ring out. Kerberos hides under her hat.

edited 3rd Jul '16 5:40:18 PM by PhilosopherStones

GIVE ME YOUR FACE

As she was released from the holding magic, Mamizou tutted and shook her head, her ears flicking in indignation and her hands going to her hips. It wasn't enough that she'd been kidnapped and, presumably, held here against her will. The knock-off nekomata that served as their "host" hadn't even managed to get her name right - although she wasn't sure what she was expecting from someone employing such an ill-fitting disguise.

While her compatriots and apparent enemies started to mill around and make a fuss, Mamizou simply leaned back against the wall behind her and fished out her pipe from her sleeve, the familiar routine of tamping down a pinch of tobacco and flicking out a match helping to calm the youkai down as she took a good look around. To one side, a chirpy human girl who dashed off in a steak of blue light almost immediately. To the other, a hulking figure in green armour who may as well have been a statue. Opposite her, a young spirit of some variety in a red coat.

This must be one of those game shows that are so popular in the outside world. The power on display was far beyond anything the humans should be capable of, however. The youkai exhaled a plume of fragrant smoke across the corridor and shook her head.

"Dear me, what a mess. Someone out there is getting rather uppity, don't you think?" She said, turning to address the man to her left now that the girl in orange tights has zipped away, a fellow in soldier's gear and bandages.

Ryuko

"Just like that, we're back at it again huh?"

   Appears so. At the very least we should be preppared this time...   

The girl with the Scissor Blade and her red and black Kamui both looked over the various characters before them, none too pleased with being thrust into the mix of a multiversal battle again (the announcer's description of her helping no matters either). This time, apparently taking part in a competiton for the entertainment of millions of unknown people, fighting against a grab-bag of various villains from across the universes versus her team of random assorted heroes from multiple universes. The pair took notice of some that appeared familiar from the last time they were in this situation, but as it seemed, most of the people here are completely new, wearing the same reactions they had when they first appeared in this situation. As such, Ryuko turned over to her would-be teammates.

"Yo, Team Hero teammates. Ryuko here. I know you guys are angry and confused about what happened, but I'll tell ya this right now. Work together please. That way you'll get to go home faster..." Ryuko said with a half-hearted wave.

---

Bowser

A low growl came out of the Koopa King's throat as Bowser rose from his feet as the announcer put him back in his body. While he was adept of working along with fellow kin, and he was no stranger to TV time, the situation he found himself in was unlike any he had personally faced. However the idea of the Koopa King working along with other bad guys from other places interested him enough to where he did not visibly show anger to the current situation (if not having to tamper his own fury at being taken against his will). Maybe he'll use the reward for this "competition" to finally be rid of the plumber. Bowser simply looked over at the group he would be teaming with, sizing all of them up to see if they can catch up to him. He'd pay his mind to the wimps at the other team at another time.

Your works are one trope short.

I hate warp-travel. Name me someone who doesn't except for the Navigators, though. You hear stories, the fragging Navy crews love telling us Guardsmen grunts all the horror stories they've heard. Doesn't work on us though. The 13th Penal Legion doesn't scare easy, considering our life expectancy is about five minutes into our first fight. Still, some of those stories get under your skin. Ships that were gone for a week and come crashing out of the warp with the log showing the crew died of old age. Daemon ships that liked to keep their original crew alive just to screw with them for years. It wears on you when you've been stuck in the warp for months. But I'm not going to be one of the guys who gets caught up in a warp story. Kage the immortal, that's me. Third campaign with the Last Chancers and still alive, because I believed harder than all the rest that I was going to make it. I still do. That's what it takes. And that's how it's going to be.

I go to bed in a nasty mood. Had to break up another fight today. Goran and Topasz again. Topasz can't stop herself from stealing and she nicked Goran's bootlaces. Goran's a bully, only knows one way to get what he wants, so by the time I got them apart, he'd beaten her badly. I just know the Colonel is going to be on my back about it tomorrow. I don't know what he expects me to do. I know there's going to be warp-dreams tonight, too. Emperor, I hate those.

There was two big surprises. First, no warp-dreams, which is strange, but just fine with me. Second, when I wake up, it isn't staring at the ceiling of the penal legion quarters. I'm looking at some big, fancy room. I hear breathing on either side of me but when I try to move, I find I can't so much as twitch. Sorcery? Techno-wizardry? I strain every muscle against this invisible prison, every instinct screaming at me to move, get out, do something! Then there's a blinding flash. And a fragging mutant steps out of a door. He looks mostly human, but his ears are wrong and he's got a tail waving around behind him. Some scruffy kid, but better dressed than any mutant's got a right to be. I calm down somewhat. Now I've got an enemy to focus on and that makes things simpler. But then he starts talking.

Frag me, this guy talks. He blathers on and on and I'm not getting half of it, but I get enough and it makes me want to laugh and scream if I could move. I finally got away from the Colonel, again, but only because this guy's bosses used some kind of warp shit or techno-sorcerery to yank me here, wherever here is, for a fragging pit fight. And even if I get out of here, it's probably right back to the Last Chancers. The mutant claims he can bring back the dead and I start struggling again because I want to ask him if he's so fragging great, how about bringing back the other three thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine Last Chancers that didn't make it, why just me? But by the time he's worked his way down the line, yapping and joking about each of us, I've calmed down. This is like prison. I've been in prisons. Keep your head down and don't piss anyone off. Yeah, I've never been good at that, though.

Finally, he finishes his speech and I can move again. I unsling my lasgun and click the safety off, but keep it pointed down. With this lot, there's probably a lot of people that could leave me a smear on the wall in an open fight. But there's also probably a lot of people that could take them on and would, too. I'll need to sound things out before I see about making a move. I step back to put my back to a wall, next to one of the doors. Gives me a way out if things get into a brawl. I'm figuring to test our warden's claims that he can raise the dead, but one of the others beats me to it and I grin as she blasts away at the little fragger, screaming like a berserker. Fine by me. Let someone else get the hammer if our captors feel like making an example. I glance around the room. Bunch of xenos, other humans, and wierd things I can't even guess at. Like hell am I working with this lot, considering how many of them are bellowing on about something or other or acting like nothing just happened. If the no-death thing is just groxshit, they'll be sorry they didn't take cover. I'm looking for the nearest human that doesn't look like a complete nutcase or mutant.

"Come on, Last Chancers," I mutter under my breath, "Time to die!"

A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. -Lao Tzu

I was still reeling when I came to. My head was pounding with nausea, pain, and the last sparks of norepinephrine. For a moment, I couldn't quite recall what had occurred, but my memories sprinted back to the front of my brain in mere moments: The president was dead, and I had killed him. I'd killed him in his train, and I'd killed him in the desert, and I'd killed all the hims from other worlds he'd called in to try and stop me. In my haste to finish him off, I was caught in his trap, but I won, all the same.

It was funny, now that I thought about it: The only way to kill President Valentine had been to kill him instantly, before he had a chance to cheat death once again. I'd deduced that myself, before things really took a turn for the worse. But even as I fell into the very trap he'd set for me, he hadn't been able to finish me off instantly, as I had done to him. I'd killed him quicker than a speeding train could kill me. Death wasn't so bad when I thought about it that way.

And as it so happens, death didn't seem to be the end after all. I was never a pious man, but it seems that didn't matter: Judging by the cat-faced announcer, my reputation had followed me all the way here. Control of my body returned to me all of a sudden, but I refused to let my legs buckle. I was unsteady for only a few seconds, but I kept my footing.

Some of the other competitors were panicking, and others were just angry. I couldn't blame them. I'd have been furious if I'd been doing anything more important before being brought here; funny enough, slowly dying in two pieces on a train track had cleared up my schedule. The way I saw it, I'd been taken out of one competition and dropped right into another. At least I knew I wouldn't be out of practice.

"Mister Liberty, was it?" I inquired, dryly. "So, what's this 'grand prize' we'll be competing for? And what sorts of challenges will we be taking part in?"

My fellow competitors' antics were an issue I was choosing to ignore until I knew more about what to expect from any of this. Some of them were clearly not human; that much was obvious. And some were too young for me to expect any sort of real challenge out of them. Most of the younger ones seemed to be on the other team, as well. That was good. If I had to be part of a team, I was glad I at least wouldn't have to put up with any children.

I had accomplished such great things in life that I was remembered even in death. The way I saw it, this was a chance for me to go two-for-two.

Release from being stuck in place found Eve a mixture of annoyed and, oh what did Elsword say it was called, ah right confused. Annoyed because who in this forsaken world had disturbed her peaceful sleep mode? Confused because how had she gotten here and how did it translate into entering her into a war against other villains?

"How pathetic. They have a lot of nerve to disturb me."

Eve did, however, register that she heard a familiar name. Rose was here too? Well that was at least somewhat helpful. She also sighed quietly though because that had been the only name she recognized. None of her other teammates were here. Decisive processes caught up to her though and she chose to start looking for Rose. Or at least some sentient being that knew what they were doing.

That was, she hoped to locate someone that she wouldn't have the urge to slap in the face.

And in this heart, our bond cannot break. From here to the end and back again I will stand sharp. The light in me will guide you home...

Vampire

"Holy fucking shit. This is literally fucking Christmas."

The aforementioned artificial bloodsucker wasn't even too peeved about being kidnapped right out of Hellsing mansion given the delightful show this Schrodinger-lookalike was presenting to them. Jan wasn't much of a team player, but he could get behind the idea of indiscriminately shooting up some of those people, over and over. No fear of death? No fear of spontaneous combustion? (Fuck you, Nazis!) He could literally keep emptying clips time and again, then go right into bludgeoing slash biting.

The very thought was getting him excited and boy was that one girl a treat. Subconsciously shuffling away from the priest he regarded both his opponents and allies alike. Some of them were from the past, some from the present - notably, the guy from 41st Century didn't look all that futuristic to begin with.

Some people were breaking down and that was almost as good to watch. With a casual step and careful to approach Xion from a direction Tira and Quintet weren't busy he clasped a hand on her shoulder, grinning menacingly. "Don't think they're gonna listen, kiddo."

---

Destroying Angel

The man wrapped in bandages welcomed the power in his limbs as he affirmed the situation. As it was, they - aliens? Enclave? Something else entirely? - were holding them hostage, expecting them to square off in deathmatches, likely as long as they deemed it entertaining.

Not everybody liked it, and they expressed it differently. A few of them Graham knew already that they needed a couple of bullets. If what the man with cat ears said was true it was only a temporary cleansing of sin, but he was going to try.

Someone addressed him, a woman with racoon features? Looked a little too regular to be a mutant, but trying to label these people with Wasteland labels would prove largely ineffective. "I would like to think that being abducted by unknown captors is a good enough reason for anger." He replied plainly, his tone on the level as he looked at the gathered people, paying a moment of attention more to the priest the catman described as a demon. "Whether it's too much of it, I can't honestly say."

grah

Once Clark's knees hit the floor, the young man groaned loudly, although his groans sounded more like a beached whale bemoaning its fate. Those around him would only have a moment to see the big S symbol on his chest before he fall facefirst on the floor, gasping for air, eyes darting around as one hand tried to cover his ears.

OH GOD. The Man of Steel yelled mentally as his mind tried to readjust his super senses to the sudden change in scenery. WHY IS EVERYTHING SO LOUD.

As the 'great' Superman flops around, fingers stuck in his ears, a small figure sneaks out from the Villains side of the room. The young Evan (or Evan Sabah-Nur, as the cat-thing-a-ma-bob had introduced him) slid out from behind the group, trying to distance himself as much as possible. "W-what am I doing here?..." He muttered, legs trembling as his back hit the wall. "Where's everyone? Professor Xavier?! Anyone?!"

Evan's sharp cry must have triggered something within Clark, for the Boy Scout in Blue managed to haggardly stand up, removing one finger from his ear as he got used to the cacophony of noises and senses, chest puffing up as Superman stepped into the fray (truth be told, Clark's way of dealing with these things was to just shove them in the back of his head, and anyone with the kind of eye that could spot intimate details would be able to see tiny drops of blood dripping from his ears), fists clenching as his eyes scoured the area.

Okay. Kids. There are a lot of kids here. Seems like everyone doesn't know what's going on. Except for that one. She looks crazy— no, no, don't judge, she might just be having an extreme reaction. An extreme reaction that could harm those little girls— oh good, someone else stepped in... which means I can focus on that...

The second Kage clicked the safety off his weapon, Clark's eyes were upon him, a stern glare not unlike the kind a parent would give to a disappointing child. "Don't." He grunted through gritted teeth, his voice still loud enough for the man to hear his warning.

And poor Evan, lost in the situation, decided to keep it to himself as much as possible. He had heard the cat-man's description of him- the potential to be the greatest villain of them all... that would attract a lot of unwanted attention.

edited 3rd Jul '16 6:53:43 PM by Stratofarius

Gemini

She had no idea what was happening. She was simply walking home from another day at the Littlelip Theater, and then she was suddenly in this place.

Gemini tried her best to keep composure in her situation, but it was pretty difficult.

So apparently, she and several other heroes had been kidnapped to face off against a group of similarly kidnapped villains.

Some of them looked human, others didn't. And that Liberty Mc Trustworthy (who probably was anything but trustworthy) person was speaking as if several of them were well-known, but Gemini had no idea who they were.

When she could finally move again, things quickly went to chaos. Spider-Man showed he had his priorities in order by bragging about himself to the crowd, Xion ran to Liberty begging to be sent back, Superman fell to the ground seemingly in pain, and others were already trading blows.

Gemini didn't want any part of this stupid game, so she tried to avoid fighting.

She walked up to Superman, who had gotten up at this point. He spoke rather sternly towards a villain who pointed a gun at him, telling him not to.

As Gemini got close, she noticed Superman's ears were bleeding. Combined with how he was earlier, this made Gemini concerned.

"Um... Are you okay?"

What is this "signature" of which people speak?

Everything was far too loud right now, and Xion was totally focused on yelling at Liberty. She barely registered the gunshot at first, but then she was pulled aside by a very creepy looking vampire guy. She was having none of that today, no sir.

She tried to push him away. "Let me go! I can't stay here! You don't get it!"

please call me "XionKuriyama" or some variation, thanks! | What is the good deed that you can do right now?

Cedar Rapids, Iowa

"And here's the man that you've been waiting for! Movie star! nWo World Champion! The biggest icon in wrestling! Hollywood! Hulk! Hoooogan!"

Hogan was used to bigger arenas than this. If it had been up to him, an occasion like this, the New World Order's very first PPV, would have gone down in LA, in front of his hometown crowd. Or maybe it would have happened in Daytona Beach, in the very same arena where he told the world where they could stick their "Hogan sucks" chants. But still, the fact that Souled Out was happening at all was something major. It was a poke in WCW's eye like no other the nWo had made before. Throwing the WCW's talent at the wall like lawn darts was one thing. Taking their heavyweight and tag team titles and making it them nWo property was another. But to fund their very own pay-per-view and run it with no competition that month from WCW? Now that was an achievement. It didn't matter that it was in a dingy little arena with only 5,000 seats, or that the Steiner Brothers had stolen the nWo World Tag Team Championship back for WCW tonight. As long as Hogan had that belt with him, the world was the nWo's to conquer.

But something was wrong. He didn't know if it was an accident or an act of WCW sabotage, but as he was walking to the ring, all of the pyro started to go off at once. The nWo, previously assembled in one place, scattered, and Hogan tried to do the same. But he had no safe out. He was surrounded. If he moved in any direction, he could well be burned alive. He wasn't about to let that title become vacant, so he decided to just wait until the fireworks ran out...

---

Rosemont, Illinois

CM Punk stood alone in the ring. In 74 minutes, he would no longer be an employee of World Wrestling Entertainment. He would, however, be the current holder of the WWE Championship, the most prestigious title in all of professional wrestling. He'd just beaten John Cena, the man who, any other night, would have kicked out at 2 even if he died in the ring, and humiliated Vince McMahon in front of Punk's hometown crowd just outside Chicago. No matter what happened next, this moment would go down in sports history as one of the greatest of all time.

Alberto Del Rio came running down to the ring, a red Money in the Bank briefcase in his hand. Punk saw him coming, though, and with one massive kick to the head, Del Rio was down. Punk looked right at McMahon, an almost psychotic grin on the champion's face. He picked up a WWE microphone off of the ring floor as a memento, then slipped out, climbed on top of the barricade, and blew his soon-to-be-former boss a mocking kiss. Mr. McMahon could only watch, helpless to intervene, as the crowd chanted "CM PUNK! CM PUNK!" and the champion of his sports entertainment empire literally disappeared into the crowd.

---

Nemesis

Needless to say, Hogan wasn't very happy when he got out of the chamber. He'd spent all this time preparing to teach the Giant a lesson about betraying the nWo, and now he was being forced onto a totally different television show. If nothing else, he hoped the rest of the group was beating the Giant into a pulp for this. At least his shirt was back on. He didn't want to show the audience too much of his physical glory, not just yet. That had never been his style.

Just as he was figuring out his situation, Spider-Man approached and started talking to him. Hogan turned to him slowly. He was still on the air, after all. He had to have some showmanship about this.

"I don't know who Crusher is, brother," said the nWo champion. "But if I ever met him or this other Hulk in the ring, I can guarantee that these 24-inch pythons would run wiiiild on him, brother!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get over yourself, Hogan," Hogan turned to see CM Punk—now wearing a T-shirt of his own and a championship belt of his own around his waist—approaching. "This has to be fate. I called you an ass-kisser to Vince McMahon on live TV two weeks ago, and now, here we are, in the same room. Shouldn't you be off ruining TNA?"

"What the hell is TNA, jack? I'm from the nWo! And what the hell is 'WW'? Some kind of knockoff WWF with tackier title belts?"

"Actually," said Punk, "in the far-off future of 2011, where I'm from, the WWF changed its name to the WWE. And not only did I just win their top championship on pay-per-view before I got here, but the WWE bought out the WCW and your little nWo ten years ago. Meanwhile, you work for TNA, where basically everyone from the WCW and nWo, including Nash and Bischoff, are doing the same old crap they were doing in whatever year you're from with the serial numbers filed off."

"PFFFFHAHAHAHAHAAA! You're tellin' me that in four years, the nWo will be dead and gone? You must be from some kind of alternate reality, brother, because that is ridiculous."

edited 3rd Jul '16 8:43:13 PM by NitrousThunder

Just pretend I wrote something witty here, okay?

Tracer glared at Reaper and nodded as he threatened her. "You didn't scare me back at the museum and you don't scare me now, Reaper. I'll beat you any day of the week!" she replied. Then she gasped as a woman (who was reminding her uncomfortably of Widowmaker) stepped forward and began to fire upon the host. She was about to blink in to save him but someone else had already intercepted. She sighed in relief.

"Nice save!" she exclaimed to Quintet, smiling and giving a thumbs up. She glanced over at Ryuko and gave another thumbs up. "Can do! I'm used to working on a team, so this shouldn't be too big of a leap!" At that moment, a certain hero collapsed and Tracer blinked to his side to try and help him up. "Are you okay, Mr..." she started to say, not sure what to call him but knowing he didn't look too good right now.

edited 3rd Jul '16 8:37:03 PM by AllHailThrall

I can still hail the Horde even though the company has shamed us. Strength and Honor even if Blizzard has neither.

Eve found a mixture of will within her. One of her wills wanted to go slam a spear into the person firing bullets. However, her more dominant will was actually feeling concern. Due to her concern for the man that had just collapsed to his knees, she ignored her murderous will for the moment. She approached Gemini and Superman with a strut fit for a queen like herself.

"Are you alright? What seems to be going on?" she inquired, her voice cold with a lack of emotion.

Emotions didn't come cheap, after all.

edited 3rd Jul '16 8:31:22 PM by angeloffluffiness

And in this heart, our bond cannot break. From here to the end and back again I will stand sharp. The light in me will guide you home...

Chun-Li & Juri, On The Set

"MMMPH?!" Both Chun-Li and Juri woke up and both found themselves unable to move. Both would resort to glaring at the one moving person in the room as if they wanted to kill him, a catboy who has really seen better days. And he seemed to be treating the situation like some demented reality show!

Finally after forever, Chun-Li and Juri were finally able to move from being frozen... And as Juri was about to join in on the pile up against the poor catboy roped in to host this reality show, Chun-Li stood right in front of Juri!

"Juri! Hold it right there!" Chun-Li yelled out at Juri, who looked dismissively at Chun-Li.

"You might not have noticed it, sweetie," Juri replied condescendingly to Chun-Li. "But we are a long way from Interpol's jurisdiction!"

Before a fight proper could begin between the two, the two of them heard the gunshots Tira fired. Juri already liked this kid. Chun-Li glared at the girl, unhappy that someone so young would try to just kill their captor.

Wizard Needs Food Badly

Mamizou, Nemesis House corridor

"Oh yes, we can't begrudge ourselves a little righteous indignation." Mamizou replied, chuckling and gesturing towards the flaring conflicts down the hall with her pipe-stem. It looked like their hosts had chosen a few contestants with pre-existing rivalries, and barbs were being traded up and down the line. Most of the more... worrying spats seemed to be contained, however.

"No, I was referring to the folks who thought they could kidnap a few dozen people - powerhouses all, it seems - and get away with it." She added, her grin widening and her gaze growing colder. "Someone out there needs to be taught a little respect, I think."

"But for now, we should probably play along." Patting the bandaged man on the shoulder, she slipped her hands into her sleeves and nonchalantly walked down the line until she reached the girl with the red-and-black hair.

"Hello, dearie!" She said cheerfully. "Nice to see someone trying to get things organised." She gave the human (or at least, human-looking) girl an appraising look as she tapped her pipe-stem against her chin, smiling. "Would I be out of line if I said you seem to be... speaking from experience?"

edited 3rd Jul '16 9:28:19 PM by Gaunt88