Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Death Coliseum, Death City
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'Well, aren't you popular,' Elly chimed back internally.

The meister had preyed on people's attachments and jealousy before, but it was a dangerous game. Namely the latter, for reasons just such as this. It never ceased to surprise her just how stupid the foundation could be which the envy was based on. Jealous over his ex trying to fight someone? Then again, this was the FATE program. Elly didn't know why she was expecting something normal.

Her internal thoughts didn't interfere with her tempo. Just as she stood to her feet, she spun around and dashed back towards Roderick. Given he was face-first on the ground, she swung one of the sickles down, or more precisely, the back of it at his as she mounted him. Then, she tried to hook the other sickle under his arm from the outside. Her aim was to position the sickle so that the blade hooked his shoulder while she remained holding the handle which trailed under the inside of his elbow, thus behind able to pull the arm back and up using the leverage rather than raw strength. Elly didn't intend to dislocate his shoulder, just use it to keep him pinned if she managed to actually get the positioning before he reacted.

"You know, dear. There's plenty more fish in the sea than Gavril and Midori. Don't you think it'd be better suited of us to take care of the one person that can instantly disarm us all in this match?" Elly asked playfully, though she didn't really expect him to even consider her offer. "One of his partners also happens to be very special to Gavril. What do you say? Want to play nice?"

Sir Les Paul

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - Death Coliseum, Death City

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Aki felt the force applied to her inner elbow, stopping the bunt short. While her forearm still swung, it ended up smacking the girl in the shoulder or bicep rather than the head and the force was far below what the gun intended. Her eyes narrowed, a scowl befitting Dani on her face. So the girl could use partial transformation. That was a surprise. Aki made an educated guess that the girl couldn't since she engaged her by trying to gouge her eyes out, which would have been significantly more effective if she transformed her hand or fingers into a blade.

Regardless, unlike the reaction to the initial kiss and to Wes's unprompted declaration, Aki's hardened gaze remained firm. Alma's offer, to Aki, was little more than a ploy. The team had been playing underhanded the entire time. Add in the fact that she had also been recently rejected and learned that apparently lots of people saw her as childish, Aki in her mind didn't believe that this enemy meant a word of what she said.

Instead, her attention was drawn to the blade coming out of Alma's head, pointed towards Wes's kick. Her eyes widened a bit, but before she could react, he missed thankfully. Good and bad, given that meant he definitely had a concussion, and a bad one if he was kicking like a drunk. Still, he was trying. Trying to help. Even though he was hurt and in pain.

That thought too, in addition to the idea that she was being played or mocked by Alma, just further angered the small former mercenary. She hated feeling useless or like a burden. She hated people getting hurt because of her or because she couldn't stop it.

So, rather than respond to Alma with words, the hand transformed into a gun returned to a normal hand which gripped Alma's elbow tightly. Aki's other hand scrambled and squirmed to get a hold on the girl's other wrist or forearm. Her legs bucked, kneed, and hooked, trying to anchor onto either Alma's legs or, preferably, her back or waist. Then her lips parted, but she didn't shout like Wes nor go for a kiss like Alma. Inside her mouth, in place of her tongue was the barrel of her gun form, aimed right at Alma, bullet loaded and firing unless stopped.

Shotgunpenguin Sir Les Paul

 

[Azurian Dream]

Ashi Monsera
LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/2067 | Monday
Interactions: Sara Merciless Medic / Dante Pumpkid / Adrian Sir Les Paul

Ashi quickly gave a semi-excited smile back to Sara, grinning as the werewolf turned to the "Iron Boy". A two-on-one fight was exactly what she had hoped for, even if it seemed insane for the zombie to want such a thing. She could also see the analytical racking of Adrian's thought process, a thousand images an hour, no doubt. No matter how brazen or punkish he seemed, Adrian was someone designed to be one thing: a fighter. Though her presence seemed to be making him backpedal a few steps, she appreciated the compliment with a soft chuckle.

"Sorry about that," Ashi chimed politely to the spikey warrior over his own now trashed plans, but it was as he thought she didn't want to be a poor sport though at the same time that was the only fair move Ashi planned to give fighting wasnt a place for the fair after all. Besides, he was trying to get Sara's assistance by returning her polearm, a weapon Ashi didn't recognize. Who quickly revealed one hell of a temper. That was a notable advantage, they weren't perfectly sync...

With that caution of use in mind, Ashi reacted to Saras's charge, performing a back step in response to the werewolves' effective feint, causing Ashi to resort to a mid-loft aerial reaction by swinging her hand behind her before throwing it with full force. OTTOMON PALM, Ashi's open palm jetted out a series of curved green blades more than she was initially able to last time she had been around the two. Her fingers followed into bladed forms as the open palm quickly turned into a fist, grabbing for the polearm's shaft to attempt to throw Sara away to disorient her for a follow-up abdomen strike.

However, at the same time as Ashi's body curved lower, her free hand jabbed into the ground, taking a good chunk of the stage out and throwing it right at Adrian to avoid being pincered immediately and to give her some screening from his speed if he attempted to jump in immediately.

.............................

 

[Sir Les Paul]

LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/20267 | Monday
TIME—N/A

Alma of the Broken Edge

---

The world went up in smoke. One moment, Aki was fending off some girl she had deemed a bully, the next her ears rang with the same violent tone that Wes' did. She had made a clear oversight in her plan to blast Alma away with her tongue-gun transformation. That being she, too, was awfully close to her own unstable fire. Worse was that Alma decided not to dodge, but to block. Just like Aki would rearrange her body for the most possible damage, Alma rearranged hers to protect against it. Aki made her tongue a gun, Alma made her tongue the end of her tsuka, and pressed together, they met to both receive the backlash of the blast Aki fired.

The problem here was their wavelengths were dangerous together. Volatile and Distorted, one attacking, the other defending, the result being a confounding explosion of feedback between the two. In all honesty, it wasn't that powerful. Not compared to Feng with her Berserker Soul or Kyle with his Soul Menace. Reality was, it didn't need to be. Open mouths and right in their faces, the blast between them would only be a few notches under what Wes received. All in all, very few things in this world compared to taking Soul Menace straight to the dome.

Fact was, Wes was still so impacted from his damage that just the reverberation of the shot happening in these girl's mouths was enough to cause his head to throb in pain once more.

Alma for the most part had relaxed herself. She was barely hovering over Aki at this point, maintaining herself. It was less of a grapple and more of a situationship; she was just there out of convenience.

Aki was not resistant to the damage. Her jaw would ache, her teeth down to their very roots would be shooting singles of pain right to her nearby brain, and the feedback of the wavelength that surged through her—surged through both of them—was enough to make them de-transform, at least for the moment. As the smoke settled and the discharge turned to numbness, they were just two girls. Two girls, in pain, on broadcast for the city to see.

Aki had the privilege of being the first to feel any sort of sensation that wasn't pain. Her cheeks, they caught something. The wet trickling of a tear. Then more. Alma was crying atop her, her mouth half agape for the same reason Aki likely had hers. The two weren't close and even if they were, their souls weren't the best types to communicate through. Aki couldn't just peer into the soul of this girl to figure out what was wrong.

Kyle the Disturbance

---

There it was. The final tag. Before Gav even had a chance to get into the fight, Kyle had been eliminated. In this oddly equalized tournament, Kyle simply didn't have the ability to keep up with Feng while she was utilizing her Berserker Wavelength. She was too fast, perhaps even too strong, and it was his best to even remotely keep up with her movements. It didn't matter whatever petty words she said before. In his mind, this match was decided by the very nature of her soul, not her skill. It was because of her soul—something she was born with, essentially a privilege—that she had this strength. In the moments she was berserk, she didn't need to focus on her wavelength. She didn't need to self-regulate. She only had to throw hands.

She had no idea how different they were. Kyle had to control his wavelength constantly with suppression just to avoid bothering his teammates or forfeiting his location. Kyle had to learn to control not one, but two wavelengths. His distorted arm for Alma took years to relearn to use, but he did it for her. The man had to constantly juggle how much of his wavelength was going where, which weapon received it, and even where it went. There was a reason his distorted Soul Menace was so much weaker than the regular one. Kyle was a man that had to remain in constant control, else everyone else around him suffered.

Only a few would know that struggle. (Adrian and Correlia, being examples.)

What Kyle saw here was a match-up of unearned privilege against hard-fought skill. It was a bygone conclusion that he lose once Feng went berserk. The only question was how much damage could he do until then.

He did have one last trick up his sleeve. The mule kick to his midsection was enough to make him double over. He released Tala, and reinforced his gut the best he could. It was his genuine best effort not to vomit right onto the thighs of Feng. Best he didn't, else he would lose this golden opportunity. In the brief moment he was struck, there existed a window to grab her legs and hold her still. Just enough time, he thought, for Tala to do something before he had to make the walk of shame from the tournament grounds.


Tala the Unbroken

---

Alma might have been useless without Kyle, but Tala sure wasn't. She wouldn't grieve the loss of her Meister, either. She never wanted to pick this fight in the first place.

Still yet, here she was. Not the first time she was the last member of a team left standing, but she wasn't exactly setup for success. As long as Feng was berserking, Tala was in the same boat as Kyle. She knew that. She had the advantage of her form, but she lacked the advanced techniques of Soul Menace. All in all, probably a sum total equal difference. Which again only meant Feng possessed an inherent advantage that Tala simply couldn't overcome.

For a brief moment, she had the same thought of how unfair that wavelength really was.

She didn't have time to dwell on it. Kyle was kicked, barely dodged a blow to the fact from another Meister, and now the window was open for another attack onto Feng. She had to take it or lose it.

She transformed mid air, having been released by Kyle since Feng had kicked him. The way she saw it, she only really had one action. Feng put herself in a precarious position with her mule kick. As fast as she was, the triad mercenary couldn't dodge the incoming heels from Tala when they rammed into her cheekbones and bounced her skull off the stone floor. Her second tag, making her just as dazed as Aki briefly.

Facing Gavril and the now tagged out Kyle, she could only watch for a follow-up. Surely this man, whether he was defending Feng for some strategical reason or that of a pre-existing relationship, wouldn't let this fight continue as it was. It was likely to become a wildly disproportionate fight, so landing that third tag would likely be a miracle. Not that she wouldn't try. The best she could hope for was Alma keeping the other weapon entertained.

And, of course, Kyle let go the moment Tala made impact.

The Elemental Triad

---

Domas flew through the air with impressive force, granted such was expected from Feng while berserk. It would only stop when coming into the clutches of a surprising Meister. Perhaps one of the only ones on the entire field capable of wielding Domas, let alone communicating to the Demon Weapon. Of course, this was only after the lightning axe had literally shot through the fire and flame that Gauss was pouring onto the field with Arkayis, so it made for a doubly surprising entry. It wasn't often someone was brash enough to throw their weapon, let alone for a stray one to come by Gauss so closely.

Of course, concerningly, whatever that axe head was made out of wasn't ferrous, or at least not sufficiently ferrous for Gauss to control. What piqued his interest was the immediate identification of an elemental affinity, specifically one of electricity. The Meister was already at his wits end fighting the abundance of attackers that took some form of issue with his fighting style. As Noah and Arkayis were all too aware, Gauss was never one to shy away from an uneasy alliance.

Domas was still new enough to his partnership with Feng that he had yet to meet Gauss, and vice versa. Once Gauss caught him by the handle, it was their true official first time officially meeting. Not that it wasn't awkward in and of itself. Surrounded by flames and potential attackers, Gauss had to rest Noah across his shoulders and hold both Noah and Arkayis with his opposite hand just to grip Domas. The magnetic wavelength keeping Arkayis and Noah in place here was putting in work. Not that it hadn't been all throughout the tournament.

'I don't know your story, axe-man,' Gauss said, the first greeting he made to the Demon Weapon. A surprise in and of itself. Domas wasn't exactly easy to wield. Feng only did so because she was a Utility Meister. It must have been the same case for Gauss here. 'But, I wouldn't be opposed to an impromptu party,' he offered, quite genuine in his hope that Domas could work with Noah to make a larger electrical field. As it was, the three of them were exhausting their wavelength supplies as it was.

'Or, y'know, I could just throw you back into the flaming abyss,' Gauss commented, pointing out the only other potential option in this situation. Aside from outright trying to tag Domas out of the fight somehow.

Roderick the Reckless

---

Rage was a dangerous thing. It made one lose sight of logic and reason. It could be a great source of power. It could also push one to do incredibly stupid things.

While there most certainly were many men that would have prayed for Elly to mount them, Roderick wasn't one of them. All her antics did was manage to piss him off. Further degrade him when he was already face first against the tournament floor. He turned his head to the side, blood tricking down from some of his forehead and staining the white tile of the previously pristine tournament ground. The EAT bracket had done next to nothing to the grounds compared to the FATE bracket. Whether that was a sign of strength or disrespect wasn't clear.

What was clear, or would be quite soon, was just how much Elly and Kisei had underestimated Roderick. Both in skill and in pettiness.

Roderick charged his wavelength through his body to its absolute maximum. The man couldn't use Soul Menace yet, but he didn't need to. All he needed to do was generate the most powerful burst of spiritual energy he could. His plan was simple: Forced Rejection. The double edged sword that made all those it touched bleed profusely. He had only looked back to see her face when it happened. He knew it would hurt, but at least seeing Elly get some comeuppance would ease the agony.

Sure as the sun does rise, his wavelength shot through both Kisei and Elly with as much intensity as one could expected from a Meister of his caliber. Mere moments turned into hours during Forced Rejection. Kisei felt it surge through him. Despite being in his sickle form, it felt as if every muscle in his body spasmed simultaneously. He was hit with the hot burning sensation of raw energy, yet it was all cool and cold with that static tingling of numbness. Forced Rejection overloaded the spiritual senses and before he knew it, he was knocked out of his weapon form. In a red light of transformation, he took form on his back beside Roderick with one big gasp.

So did Roderick's Demon Weapon partner, who was revealed to be a short, petite individual of what appeared to be African or South American descent and an androgynous form. Irony being that their Gatling Gun form was likely larger than they were.

All that Kisei and this unnamed weapon felt in terms of spasms and pain, Elly would be equally privy to. Roderick as the instigator of the technique only had a moment before the backlash hit him, but even when it did, his muscles tensed and staying atop him would have been akin to riding a bull. Not from his own strength, but from the jerking of his body as a result of the idiocy involved in using a full-body Forced Rejection.

"How's this for nice you fuckin' bimbo," he shouted, unable to get much more out or articulated before the worse of the spiritual convulsing.


Adrian fuckin' Hackney

---

At least she was having fun, it seemed. On his end, he was somewhat insulted and still perturbed. Not only did she pose a significant threat to him, he wasn't even sure if she was taking it seriously. That, or perhaps he was taking the whole thing too seriously himself. He was quite the competitive little fuck after all.

Nonetheless, in what world was tossing a few stones at him going to slow him down? She was a Demon Weapon just as much as he was, though by her enhanced transformations, he was fairly certain she had either evolved as a zombie or into a Death Scythe. In either case, it was worse for them. In this exact moment, though, it meant surely she knew he had a thousand ways to deal with airborne debris like that because she too had countless ways to handle it.

What Adrian decided to do was a tricky maneuver. Not one he used often and one that he knew he had never used in front of Ashi or Sara, though the latter was less important here.

Adrian dashed forward, transforming one hand into the Iron Door of his Maiden form and using it to block the incoming debris, knocking it to the side nigh-effortlessly. In the same motion, he hid his opposite hand behind the door and transformed it into the latch from his Maiden form, keeping it out of eyesight. As opposed to attacking Ashi immediately, he instead latched his hand-latch around the wrist of the hand she had used to grab Dante, having hidden it from site until the last moment. This in turn prevented Sara from being thrown, but more importantly put Ashi in a potentially dangerous situation.

Adrian had planned this all out. Ashi could easily just transform her arm to disengage, but that would allow Sara to continue engaging. Ashi could try to double down on the offense and attack while pinned, but Adrian still had his door arm to block most of her incoming attacks and spikes for what he couldn't. He was prepared to retaliate if need be. His reason for not attacking her directly was simple. He was preparing for her counter-attack so that he could adjust accordingly. He reserved his tempo with the belief that limiting her options of attack was better than pressuring her with more attacks in general. This was a numbers game he had fought plenty of times.

The biggest problem with being outnumbered wasn't what the opponents could do, but what you couldn't.

"I get the feelin' you really aren't," Adrian retorted, short and quick. Gruff, even. Of course, he was referring to her attempted apology, but amidst such a close range skirmish, there was little time for time for wordplay.

EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun Breadman Peckinou Merciless Medic Azurian Dream November Witch Pumpkid Haze- Shotgunpenguin

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[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long
LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/20267​

Victory, victory at least. Though irked by his gaze upon her, he was just like that bastard. Words were wasted on such, he would curse the fates and her unearned power. Forgetting all that he had done that led them to this point. She had not sought him out after all. Now that it hasn't gone the way he wanted, and that he made fools of her weapons, he was a pouty child, holding her legs now that that Kusarigama wretch was coming in with an attempt of ending this all.

Little did the other two know a big mistake had just been made as Feng's brain had been rattled, the daze being just enough to undo her control, if at least in that moment, laying bear just what lurked should control be lost. Feng's eyes immediately flashed open, and the very atmosphere around her shifted, while the situation was dangerous from the start, this became far more primal, as if madness and death itself was unleashed. Far more animalistic, Feng would quickly jump to her feet and snatch Tala by the throat and choke slammed her into the flooring, provided the weapon did not react her way out of it. In the following instance, Kyle would get to reflect upon his earlier thoughts as the woman screamed out in Mandarin; with a horrible snarl to her face as she more or less flew onwards on a form of autopilot honed by years of closequarter fighting and street battles, only one thing was on her mind now, even as the mind struggled to keep up and to reach the body, "Qù sǐ ba!!" <"Just die!">"

It was then however that she would come to. Akin to being next to Darth Vader, a cold certainty would reassert itself, the bloodlust while not gone, would simmer. Movement of her jaw working itself back to a comfortable position as bone and joints cracked and popped audibly, a finger would point out at the Meister and the drop kicker, as if recovering from the brink, she continued as glazed over eyes would narrow in like those of a dragon, selecting the pair from all else. "Bù……bù. Nǐ méi zīgé zhǐhuī wǒ." <"No.... No. You do not get to direct me.">

Exhaling heavily, she would still stay ready for action, as she continued, this time in english; "Go to your Meister and get out of my sight..." A raspier voice would cling, still clearing the cobwebs so to speak from her mind as she focused directly on Tala.

"...or do I make you the broken?" With a little of her attention on her teammates who were in all sorts of crazy situations, a large part of Feng had simply wished to kill them all for the loss of face, for what they had done to her partners and to herself, to the extent they pushed her, and what they had almost unleashed. Part of her was very concerned if that incident would spread madness... But in truth, this all had to end soon. One way or the other, it would end. But what had happened would not be forgotten. Waiting for the woman to get up or carry out her own attack actions, Feng waited to intercept what attacks she could. The fact Feng could pull back this one time, did not mean she could take it for granted.

There were a great many believes Kyle had about this situation that could be turned on their heads, but Feng was of no mind to even give him more than a glare of disgust. Aki needed help, so did Wes, she wasn't exactly sure where Domas was, a problem to solve after this problem.

Interactions/mentions: EmperorsChosen (Aki) Shotgunpenguin (Wes) Breadman (Domas) Sir Les Paul (NPCs) The Regal Rper (various)

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Death City; Death Colosseum​

Wren sucked in a sharp breath, held it between clenched teeth.

She tensed, curled inward as all of her muscles popped at once, quivering with strain. The sickening crack of her bones sounded off as she grew one head taller, a low growl building up at her throat the more she flexed, almost ripping through her clothes. Her features sharpened, hair grew to a mess of spikes, calves and biceps near bigger than her opponent’s head now, all in one go. To all onlooking werewolves among the crowd, it would’ve been nothing but an awkward, malformed 'transformation'. With a few too many wrinkles to iron out.

It was all she could really muster. For all of her struggle, her reward was only being slightly faster, slightly stronger than before. But she needed all of the advantages she could get.

Valerie dashed at her, and Wren stood there with her guard down, wide open, a puzzled look across her face— almost a one-to-one from when Valerie saw her chewing on her own arm. There was no killing intent behind the AW’s rush, none that she could make out at a glance. Hell, there was no intent at all, at least not any aimed towards her.

No. There was urgency in her eyes instead, caution. She was looking past her, like she were invisible.

Wren’s head whipped around, throwing eyes over her shoulder. Both of Kim’s weapons were laid out flat on the floor, hair and clothes singed, charred to a crisp. Then when the dots connected in her mind. Her gaze sharpened, her stance lowered, and she broke into a full sprint trying to match Valerie as she flew overhead.

She had been all too focused on her own little bubble of battlefield to even hear the unarmed Kim calling out to her one remaining dance partner.

Whether Valerie reached her or not, it wouldn’t have changed much from the fight, not anymore. Now that the other two weapons were out of the game, it would’ve finally been a fair 2v2. But they weren’t here to play fair, were they? Maybe Zosar had the decency and sportsmanship for it, given she knew these people personally; but Wren had no such ties. And certainly, no qualms whatsoever with being an asshole on live television.

She would have rushed past in an attempt to get in Valerie’s way, but the sudden flare of wavelength above made her stop in her tracks. It went off like silent fireworks, an explosion without any build up whatsoever, no whistle.

All she could do was stare wide-eyed as the ball of heat flung from Valerie’s leg hit the floor with a loud bang, swallowing both Zosar and Kim in a cloud of smoke. The way the air shuddered at the sudden burst of energy, the release of wavelength brushing against the bristling fur on her ears, the whole thing felt oddly familiar to her. Valerie’s words popped back into her head — ‘The same type of soul.’ — and it didn’t take long for her to put two and two together.

“These weapons with elemental wavelengths are always so fuckin’ extra…” — Tearing a hole through your own soul just to pull that off was certainly a play. Whether it was a wasteful one or not had yet be seen once the dust settled. Not that she didn’t have any faith in Zosar, just that she didn’t know what Kim would be capable of now that she’d been given a smokescreen.

Lupine ears twitched, flicked back to the sound of Valerie’s voice. Two B movie one-liners were thrown at her back-to-back. She turned, shot the AW a blank stare. Eyes drooping, studying her with a vacant expression as she fell towards her. It was easy to get a look at someone’s face when they were looking up at you, with the sun falling down on their face. What Valerie would have seen before her in the second-long stillness between them, the moment between her feet touching ground and Wren making her move, were two orbs of silver staring back at her.

Unblinkingly, almost uninterested.

Were she to have looked further down, she would’ve seen Wren twisting her lip, her jaw clenched as she bit down on the inside of her cheek, and a straight line of blood trickling down the corners of her mouth. The next fraction of a second, she would have seen a blur of motion, and a chunk of flesh, blood, and spit coming right at her face.

Wren lowered, sagged forward, and ducked as fast as she could after spitting out the inside of her left cheek at Valerie, crawling under her legs, and already kicking up on one knee the moment she was past her.

Spitting blood in someone’s eyes worked at the time, when she was a child, but she didn’t expect the old trick to work its magic now that she was in the big leagues. It was just a distraction. She knew Valerie would move her head to dodge it; she just needed to slip past her once her eyes inevitably focused away from her and onto the projectile of blood flying at her.

Valerie was right. They had a lot of things in common, Wren and her. Most notably, they both had a luscious, long head of pale hair. Hers was wilder and more tomboyish, of course, but she couldn’t help but wonder just how differently Valerie treated her hair compared to her. Was it longer? Straighter? Did it curl at the ends?

She really wanted to take a closer look at it.

Wren clawed at the drape of hair flowing behind Valerie, in an attempt to wrap it around her hand and tug at it until it was taut like a rope, to pull Valerie’s face in so it could meet her fist — “Kim can wait.” — There was a sharp, cold finality to her words as she barked them at her. That focused glare in Wren’s face communicated the message well enough, she wasn’t letting her run off into her partner’s arms so easily. Valerie would have to get through her first.

She wasn’t exactly planning on yanking her by the hair and having a cat fight in front of the whole stadium. She had little to no hopes of the punch she threw landing at all. Wren was just trying to get her hands on her, bringing her close and not letting go. Not until she was close enough to wrap those same hands around her neck.

Interactions: The Regal Rper

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Wes Kraven
Death Colosseum - Death City, Nevada
October 31'st

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Aki) Sir Les Paul (NPC's)​

---

Wes only had a scant moment to take in the sight in front of him, as Alma once again closed the distance between her and Aki only to shove her tongue down his partner's throat. What followed was a sudden wave of spiritual pressure being unleashed, like a misfiring cannon. The energy, plugged and without a clear way of release, erupted in a violent explosion that had his head practically vibrating out of pure agony.

His arm was blown back hard enough that it threatened to topple him over, his spine twisting and bending as it fought to keep himself upright. His good arm windmilled in an attempt to straighten himself out, in what might have been a comical scene were it not for the fact that he looked like he had been hit with a truck. Despite the urgent and potentially fatal (for the tournament anyway) situation Wes found himself in, his face didn’t quite reflect this fact. No, instead of gritted teeth, a stiff jaw and a fire in his eyes; The expression that was on his face was one of stupefaction.

His eyes were wide, pupils turning to the size of dinner plates as he stared blankly at the duo in front of him. A fresh trail of blood trickled down his nose, joining the red lines that dripped down the side of his face and out of his slack mouth. Wes had already been reeling before, his brain like a bowl of water being sloshed around, threatening to spill over at any second. Manageable, in the sense that he wasn’t drooling face first on the ground in a heap.

But being exposed to another burst of soul energy, one so close it held enough force to blow away his fist like a piece of scrap paper? Something had to give. And as it would turn out, his stomach was the first to go. His mouth rapidly filled with saliva, dribbling out of the side of his mouth as his body teetered forward. His other knee hit the ground, his good arm shooting out to stabilize himself as best as he could. He took a great gasp of air, and then a second, bile rushing up from his stomach in a flood of pink tinged nastiness.

Sweat coated his face, sticking locks of lavender to his forehead as the torrent slowly subsided, leaving him dry retching. His stomach burned, his throat felt like it had been rubbed raw by sandpaper, and Wes wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get the stench out of his now soiled sweatshirt sleeve. He felt so tired, tired enough to almost be able to push past the pain and give into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. His arm shook, wavering as it fought against gravity, before collapsing in on itself. Yet again, his world shifted as his body collapsed and rolled violently on its side. In a bid of luck, whether it was good or bad depended on the person, his bad arm swung over his side like a fleshy flail; elbow poised to hit something, although to what that something was was in the hands of fate.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - Death Coliseum, Death City

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Aki was familiar with warzones. She knew what a concussion felt like, what it felt like to get blasted away or for an explosion to go off near her--the dizziness, the tinnitus, the double vision. This was a different feeling though. The shock reverberated through her body, through her being. The girl winced, teeth grit. Blood trickled out from the corner of her mouth as her ears rang.

She saw Wes get thrown to side and lose his stomach. It angered her again, though at least this time she felt directly responsible rather than indirectly from not being useful enough.

Then she felt something wet. Blood? No, tears. From pain? Did it hurt? Of course it hurt. Aki hurt too, but Aki wasn't crying. The girl was more experienced than the mercenary had first thought, so surely she wasn't crying over some pain, no matter how debilitating. No. Why should she care? She was an enemy, and every time Aki paused, they exploited it. Whether this was a ploy, or a chink in the armor, Aki needed to exploit it.

Aki twisted her body, holding one of Alma's arms whilst hitting her inner elbow with the other as she rolled over, aiming to flip their positions with Aki on top. She knew Wes was going for another strike, but given his debilitation, even if he didn't miss and struck her, that was fine. It would hurt, but everything hurt right now. She needed to be the one on top, though.

If she could just hold her down, concussed or not, Wes could just tag her three times and get her out.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Death Coliseum, Death City
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Elly's plan was executed exactly as she wanted. She expected a struggle. She expected whining. She even expected him to pull some kind of a trick. She didn't expect Rod to effectively impale them both on the same sword. Elly saw it first, but just because she saw it didn't mean she could react. A few seconds at most and the rejection took effect.

Elly's teeth grit unconsciously as her whole body tensed. Any grasp she had on Rod released as Kisei detransformed. For several moments, she couldn't even think, just focusing on the pain and strain as a suffocated growl escaped her.

When it finally ended, Elly collapsed, not backwards or to the side. No. Forward, right on top of his back. While Elly didn't expect Rod to be painfully petty, it seemed he didn't expect the same of her. Even after a few minutes, they would still be weak. Staying on top of Rod ensured that even if he 'recovered' first, which was a possibility given he must have trained in order to pull a trick like that off, he wouldn't simply be able to push himself up. He would have to push himself off with Elly's weight on top. Suffering from the effects of rejection, every pound would be an extra struggle, buying her some more time.

Plus, it meant he was stuck for at the bare minimum several minutes of listening to Elly's voice in his ear.

"I... think I can see why Gavril and Midori both seem to enjoy my company more than yours..." Elly remarked through a hushed, strained breath. A bimbo? Perhaps, perhaps not. However, Elly could absolutely be a petty bitch. "Don't be so grumpy, dear. What's wrong? First time being topped by a woman?"

 

[The Regal Rper]

Meddlesome Duo
Colosseum, Tournament

It was a sight to behold to witness Wren lock in. Perhaps not impressive for most DWMA Agents, but for the majority of civilians that dwarfed them in number watching this?

Resident_weevil: “I told y’all she was a scrapper!”

AllSt4R: “M.V.Ps about to have a showdown.”​

Valerie's charge, Wren’s defiant stance, had people on the edge. The text logs flooded with anticipation watching her defiant glare on what she would do as Valerie came ever closer, unphased.

The hype train was off, and Wren's transformation only tugged the whistle signalling its departure.

A cinematic scene might have displayed it differently, a mahou shoujo would have caught the angles, panned the camera, rotated the angle and slowed the sequence down, highlighting everything for the viewer in detail-- but the audience could only observe what the cameras showed. Yet what they did show for those among the crowd watching live or on screens or those studying the broadcast, it was a true sight to behold a Cutem Werewolf change or administer a fraction of their power.

For the civilians watching, Wren's transformation was something to see. It had been surprising for quite a few to see a Demon Weapon with her features already, this just put the fire back in.

Like the Incredible Hulk, as she grew so did the feral look in her eyes intensify.

“Ayo…” went off in the chat.

A obscure FINALLY! was fired off from somewhere in the crowd.

It stirred an awakening as people online went wild seeing this. After all, it wasn’t everyday one got to see this type of action in a slightly more contained environment. The days of Apex had seen many a werewolf fan, and this just revived those days.

The transformation drew out a side of the internet that had been watching in silence, among the crowd in the bleachers or on the Magitech stands civilians let out sounds of surprise-- especially as Valerie remained on course, undeterred; mods on the official Livestream to the tournament had to step in, slap a cool down to get things slightly under control-- streamers streaming had to demand the chat take it easy, other streamers probably also got swept up in the excitement--

Rips revealed skin, full on tears revealed a little more; the sickening crack that emanated from her body had people shooting up out of their seats or cringing in disgust just to lean forward as Valerie moved in.

Then the AW did her move. Went skywards, threw that attack--

--it went straight at Zosar, looked like it would hit. Bated breath. At the last second, he dodged. Like a slippery serpent, it went past him. Then the explosion consumed them a foot or more away in a massive cloud that all in the tournament field could see in this brief boom.

The crowd focused on their fight, reacted like they had with Gauss or even Wes and Kyle's spout or Feng's display-- they shouted.

Wren's hardening expression as she faced Valerie coming at her like a comet with the mission to wipe her out was what drew people back in as Zosar and Kim had their exchange in the privacy of a smokescreen of dust. Things flew out from the dust cloud now and then, catching people's attention as the two fought, but neither combatant immediately came out.

Wren's defiance and quick thinking however was about to see Valerie's as she blocked the bloody spit coming at her eyes with a turn of her head. The perfect opportunity for Wren to reach out and grab her hair just like she wanted to reel the AW in.

Except Wren didn't realize one important thing, Valerie could change her hair too. That's exactly what happened. Even as pain shot through her head and her neck having just landed as she was yanked back, her teeth grit in a tight grimace, the tomboy’s focus was superior to whatever pain she felt. Silver long hair turned red. Burning red, as the heat on her blades shifted to the burning red heat of segmented blades on her hair after Wren grabbed and pulled.

That burning sensation scalded Wren's hand instantly with immediate burns. Nothing the medical staff at DWMA couldn't treat and erase with modern medicine of course but the pain was intense and immediate, and a reminder to Wren that Valerie had been cocky in her skills for a reason going up against someone of Werewolf blood.

Even as Wren yanked her back and as Valerie's hair changed, both of the elbows of her arms turned into the bar of her blade as she jabbed at the daughter of a Don- and she did so with a vicious growl and grimace as she struck at Wren from behind her, going into the attack, head turned just enough to see her, ready to transform any other part of her body for a possible defense.

Mentions: n/a
Interactions: Haze-

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

Date: October 31, 2067 - Death Festival
Location: Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
Interactions: Adrian, Ashi, Dante
Mentions: N/A
Sir Les Paul Azurian Dream Pumpkid

She expected Dante’s words. She didn’t know if Dante was upset because he was frustrated being out of her hold and made useless or something else, but she had to fight the amusement that threatened to spill into their barebones connection. ‘If I hadn’t let go, he’d have kicked me right in the chin.’ She reasoned quickly, before spilling the details about Ashi as she moved. ‘She is a Greater Zombie. Because she’s a reanimated corpse, she can’t feel exhausted, and her strength is even more impressive than both myself and Adrian. She has a literal marble pillar she slaps in her apartment, which cracks with the force of her slaps. Plus, she’s an AW because no other person can resonate with her unless they were also undead. She is a force to be reckoned with, and if Adrian gave you to me, he knows he even has limits when it comes to her. If I remember right, she can transform into chakrams, circular blades.’

Thankfully, her training with Noah meant that she can effectively use Dante’s halberd form similarly. As the halberd pivoted upwards and sideways into a guard, Ashi had reacted quickly with a slapping motion, only for her palm to have curved green blades forming out and her fingers turning into blades to grab.

Sara simply spun Dante as she really didn’t have time to keep the guard up for long, twirling him until his halberd head was downwards where it was impossible to grab him at this angle. But just as Ashi’s hand was about to make contact with Dante, Adrian charged in, having used his latch from his iron maiden form to grab at Ashi’s wrist and attempt to prevent her from touching Dante.

Now with Adrian protecting himself with an iron door and holding down Ashi's hand, Sara made her move.

After having already spun Dante downwards to offset the angle of the grab to make it difficult, she continued the momentum into another upward slash towards Ashi’s torso while pivoting so her side was facing Ashi to make the hit a bit more possible.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: October 31, 2067 - Death Festival
Location: Death City, Nevada
Interactions: Maria
Mentions: N/A
RedArmyShogun

Raphael heard she wanted to give him a discount, but then seemed confused when Maria asked him. Was he sure? Why was she questioning him?

It seemed that he hit a conundrum, but when the topic moved away from that to how Maria and her business has been doing, he took the much needed topic shift to get away from those difficult questions. Though, when she said she was fine with a questioning tone, Raphael was suddenly reminded that she was likely not used to saying how she was.

When Maria brought up Nadia though, his entire demeanor shivered, much like how he had when they went to that haunted attraction. “Hahaha, hah… hahh, no, I haven’t seen Nadia, and thank Death for that.” He gave a nervous chuckle before shaking his head, the spider attached to his torso moving its fangs around. “A-anyway, I’m doing just fiiiiine, the liquor is fantastic~.” He cooed, then shook his head. “Ah, wait, you asked something else earlier- OH, right, if I was sure about buying plushies.” He then gave her a scrutinizing look, which looked more like he was trying to hold something in because it looked quite constipated. It seemed his facial expressions were hindered by the alcohol. “Why do you say if I was sure about the plushies? Really threw a curveball at me, I thought it was a trick question.”

He then tapped his chin, looked around to see if anyone else was here, and then spoke quieter, which was a feat in and of itself considering his drunkenness. “Wait, what’s this about? Are you saying you’d prefer to have me buy something better or are you concerned about having me pay?” At least he had his wits about him, as he did remember that Maria tended to sell - or give away - her creations to her friends.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Gav | Death Festival/ Tournament

There was truthfully nothing he could have done about the final tag team effort between Kyle and his AW partner. Gav could have done something only after Feng had been hit with her second tag by Tala.

Feng's retaliation though proved to be the same thing that stopped him from immediately taking advantage. That Berserker trait flaring probably at the worst time when it would have been better for her to keep her distance.

The best he could do was just wait for the right timing.

Mentions: n/a

Interactions: Kusaragami, Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin

 

[Sir Les Paul]

LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/20267 | Monday
TIME—N/A

Alma of the Broken Edge

---

Alma didn't... care.

Even if she did, it wouldn't matter. Without Kyle, there was no point to her remaining in the tournament. Truth was, she didn't even notice him get eliminated.

She didn't resist Aki. Despite all that fight and talk from earlier, this wasn't some wrestling match. That would imply there was an adversary. There wasn't an ounce of fight left in her. Sure, she might have been able to give Aki a run for her money out of sheer bratty stubbornness, but her will to do so had been broken. In an unexpected way, she lived up to her name. A self fulfilling prophecy.

If Aki wanted Alma on top, so it would be. Manhandled and defeated, Alma accepted her fate below the Asian mercenary. There wasn't resistance in her arms. Aki could do with the girl as she pleased, in all reality. Roughing her up belied the fact Alma was still just there crying and the tossing only made it worse. Ugly tears, smeared make-up, mascara from her overly-painted face started to run. No "waterproof" make-up could survive the waterfall of feelings pouring out of her eyes. Those weren't the type of droplets that came from pain, not the type the body released as a natural but uncontrollable reaction.

Amidst the fight, Aki had to look down and see the weeping face of a girl upset because of her scornful rejection.


Tala the Unbroken

---

Kyle was out of the tournament. Tala was not. Alma was crying on the ground. Tala was just getting started.

The fact neither of her current adversaries decided it was appropriate to apply some amount of pressure was, in her mind, a mistake. When outnumbered, one wanted to press that advantage. Not so far from her current skirmish, that was the exact tactic a certain blue-haired Autonomous Weapon was using. This mistake not only allowed Tala the freedom to make the first move, it allowed her a moment to breath. To assess the situation. To take into account everything that was going on in the battlefield.

To take inventory of every target that was in front of her.

In chess, a good player had to think ten steps ahead, but a great player tried to force the hand of his opponent. Or, in this case, her opponents.

She may have been a kusarigama, but she was about to become a fork. A two-pronged attack that would demand action.

Tala transformed her right arm and, not unlike what Austin had been doing, flung it at her desired target with no small amount of velocity. There were certain limitations to this, but it was doubtful she would miss her mark all things considered. No, more likely, someone would have to intercept her.

The ball end of her iron chain shot straight for the backside of Wes' skull. The discombobulated idiot would never see it coming. Just as Feng feared, he would prove himself a liability.

That was not the end. Wavelength coursed through her. Her own Amplification. Not as effective as that of the Berserker Wavelength, but unironically comparable to what Kyle used. He may have had a lot of finesse as a Meister, raw skill, but he lacked potency. So much so that a hybrid fighter of an Autonomous Weapon could easily match him. Chances were, dedicated Autonomous Weapons like Adrian or Ashi could just as easily best him. Tala was, in a way, a more dangerous opponent.

With her wavelength flared, she pulled it into her left hand, granting it both increased strength and the resistance of her fortified wavelength. Not that it added much, but it might at least slow down her opponent if it landed in the right spot.

Which she aimed for. With only a short delay after throwing her iron ball at Wes, Tala stepped in, aiming a hard jab at the arm pit of Feng.

The fork was complete. She wouldn't actually hit Wes with the back of her iron ball; that might genuinely kill him. No, if Feng was content to let him get hit, she would transform at the end of the strike and tag him; or, even try to knock him out some other way. Taking him down again would at least hamstring Feng for further in the tournament. A spiteful act, sure, but Tala had considered true victory over Feng a lost cause. On the other hand, if Feng went to defend Wes, that might just be the opening she needed for that third tag. The chances of such an obvious tactic working were low, especially with Gavril right there to stop her, but it was the best she could do.

Fork Feng. Fork Feng hard.



Roderick the Reckless

---

"Bitch, I bet you've never been topped by a real man," Roderick spat, this petty venom all he could muster given the quasi-paralyzed state of everyone involved.

Their exchange not only caught the eye of a few other contestants, but it was brought up on the jumbo-tron being displayed to both the top and bottom rows of the tournament. Toxic taunts and all put up for all to see with the mortifying reality that all four involved could only feel what felt like the white noise of static found in an old CRT monitor inside their muscles, most of them refusing to respond to basic stimuli and doing so with chaotic jerks when they did.

"Not that I doubt there hasn't been a small army, but pricks like plastic man there don't count," he went off, hardly holding back his baseless accusations just to take more shots at the Irish wench that put him in this position.

No one gets behind Roderick. He's a power top, after all. (Or, so he thinks.)

EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun Haze- Shotgunpenguin

​

 

[Breadman]

Domas Krogertas
Death Colosseum - Death City, Nevada
October 31'st​

Domas flew through the air and as he was prepared for another collision, he was rather surprised by the turn of events. 'Well well well, who has me now?' The mercenary wondered to himself as he felt the wavelength of this new person. Not friend, but definitely not foe.

I don't know your story, axe-man, But, I wouldn't be opposed to an impromptu party,'

"Ohhh, wouldn't you now? I'm already tied to another, but she might be tied up at the moment to make proper use of me." The weapon chuckled to himself

'Or, y'know, I could just throw you back into the flaming abyss,

"I don't think she'll mind if I do a detour." Domas responded, "The fire and the flames was never my scene. So lets ride the lightning instead." He mused for a moment on what he could do to help Gause, but he needed to know what the man had planned in the first place. "So what do you need, chief? Lightning comes in many forms, chain, ball, forked, static..." He pasued "Or would you prefer the good old hack and slash?"

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner Noah Wiley, Arkayis Misonuka
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Death Colosseum
Mission FATE Bracket, Deathfest Tournament
Status Excited

​

Tags: The Regal Rper Haze- Peckinou Merciless Medic Breadman

​

Domas had no idea of just whom he had agreed to temporarily align himself with.

Feng? Feng and Aki specifically. They were mercenaries. Brawlers. Domas might have been, too, but the way Gauss, Noah, and Arkayis operated was entirely different.

If Feng operated like a bruiser, Gauss and his team were damn-near mages. Could they fight up close? Sure, but they preferred to specialize in their unique affinities and abilities. Mister Slavic hammer-boy was about to have his eyes opened to a whole new world of use.

The issue at hand was actually holding back. With a new source of power and the advantage of being a Utility Meister, Gauss would have loved to test the waters with two lightning weapons. It was doubtful they could establish resonance right out the gate, but that didn't mean there weren't ways to incorporated Domas into the techniques Noah and Gauss had already developed. Alas, such was forbidden in this competition. Not only that, a hammer was hardly the preferred weapon of this Meister.

Here came where the knowledge of elemental affinities and Demon Weapons came into play. Gauss was well-learned. He might not have ever wielded two weapons of the same affinity before, but he knew the theory. Alike affinities could interact. The lightning generated by one of them could be controlled by the other. That was the mechanic he was about to abuse.

Arguably, what happened to Arkayis next could also be considered a form of abuse. With no way to properly wield the scythe with both his hands full, had to slip the pole of the weapon into his mouth and hold him by the teeth. It was a damn good thing they weighed next to nothing.

'All we need is the strongest bolt you can muster without resonance," Gauss answered, though it was somewhat hazy through their newborn telepathic link. The two hadn't the time to stabilize their situation, but at the very least, communication was communication. And, Gauss sounded confident enough. Then again, he always did.

With that, the quartet shot off. Awkward as all Hell with a scythe in his mouth, but it didn't matter. Resistant to the flames and now going on a spree of destruction, the four of them became an all new type of menace. What Gauss might have underestimated was the vigor of Domas. That lightning of Perun packed quite a punch; stronger by default than what Noah naturally had. Whether that was his unique form of the fact Noah had a dual elemental affinity and unique wavelength was uncertain. It didn't matter. Domas had the power, Noah had the control. Like a bat out of Hell, they emerged from the flames and began launching lightning bolts at everyone near by.

Beauty of it was, Domas didn't have to focus on controlling them and only vaguely had to aim them. So long as Gauss swung Noah in the right direction after the bolt was fired, he could do the rest of the aiming and control for the hammer. That gave Noah a much needed break from expending his own power and essentially gave free reign to blast whoever the Hell he wanted.

ZZZZT.​

One stunned enemy.

ZZZZT.​

Two stunned enemies.

ZZZZT.​

ZZZZT.​

ZZZZT.​

ZZZZT.​

Over and over. Even those that got pissed off and tried to pursue were dissuaded. Between magnetic rejection, two electric weapons, and Arkayis leaving a trail of fire behind them, the four were simply pure agents of chaos.

Like vultures, some agents smart enough to clear the way of the four became carrion, tagging many of the downed and paralyzed agents the four made. Suddenly, the situation Elly, Kisei, Roderick, and his partner found themselves in wasn't all that unique. The only thing separating them was the trash talk that had been broadcast. Nonetheless, if other agents were already in the habit of tagging out downed individuals, those four were on a short timer to get up before it only happened to them.

Finally, it was announced.

"Under one-hundred contestants still remaining in the bracket."​

It was getting down to the wire, so to speak.

'We may not win,' Gauss shared with his team, speaking to Arkayis, Noah, and the best he could to Domas, though in the chaos it was even more distorted than before, 'but, we'll sure as Hell be in the running for MVP.'

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Death City; Death Colosseum​

It was like laying a hand on a pan sitting atop an open stove; it took a full second to register.

She felt the heat surge on the palm of her hand, a harmless warmth that slowly grew, then it dug beneath her skin like countless red-hot wires brushing against every crease of her hand, setting off the alarms in her brain— her nerves sang a chorus of pain— and for a small, fleeting second that involuntary instinct to pull away kicked in like a hammer to the gut.

It really was a smart move, as one would expect from an autonomous weapon with experience on the field such as her. She was practically forcing Wren to back away, resetting positions and making enough distance between them to rush back to Kim’s side.

Alas, if Valerie thought that she was the craziest bitch in the FATE branch, she was sorely mistaken.

Wren grinded her teeth together, let out a guttural, muffled shout and took two fistfuls of red hair, tugged at it hard like a rope with both hands. Making sure the AW felt the whiplash thundering on her neck, ripping across her scalp as if it were about to pull loose. The wereweapon’s eyes began to water, until the dam broke and her make-up inevitably started streaming down her cheeks. Tremors quivered up her arms, blistering fingers barely managing to hold on out of sheer spite and willpower through all the blaring warning her brain was throwing at her.

It was hard to tell from that blood-stained full-toothed grin(?) she had that belied the heavy frown on her face whether she was a masochist having the time of her life, or if she was simply biting down hard and holding back a scream. The more she endured the torture, the more she realized how stupid of an idea it was to fight like healthcare was free— over a ‘friendly’ tournament of all things.

Contrary to popular belief, most Demon Weapons rarely needed their hands for the job. If that was of any comfort to her and the ensuing nerve damage she’d probably have to go through after this.

The announcement rang in her ears, and she barely paid any mind to it, only a slight, almost panicked acknowledgement as her eyes flicked to the speakers for a small fraction of a second. When her gaze fell back on Valerie, there was a saw-toothed blade coming at her. The pain surging through her hands barely allowed her to form a single coherent thought, so she simply followed the motion and side-stepped, turning with Valerie to stay behind her as she swung.

She snapped a kick straight into the AW’s back, and her fingers finally unfurled and released Valerie’s hair, the reflex inevitably winning over her own stubbornness. She could only hold on for a couple of seconds. Wren stumbled back, reddened hands shaking violently, wincing at the pain. It felt like she were wearing a pair of gloves swollen with boiling water.

Now that the distance was made between them, Wren could only stand there, aching hands hanging at her sides, barely able to form a fist. She snarled, blew out a shaky breath, and spat out the rest of the blood that had been accumulating on her mouth from the wound on the inside of her cheek. She threw Valerie a tired look, managed to put her hands up, then waited.

It was an open invitation; she still had more fight left in her.

Interactions: The Regal Rper

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - Death Coliseum, Death City

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

There it was again. This girl had just given up. There was no fight or struggle and the girl just looked distraught. Aki stared down at her, confused. Was she forfeiting? No, she didn't say she forfeit. What was her plan then? Confuse her? If that were the case, then the girl won a few times over. Regardless, Aki couldn't keep wasting time with this wrestling match.

Grumbling a bit under her breath, Aki didn't hit the girl, but did opt to tag her, tapping the bottom of her closed fist, albeit gently, to her several times to officially tag her out. Though, Aki's guard was still up in case this was a ploy.

Feng's fight had finished without her anyway, or so Aki thought. It seemed the remaining weapon still had fight in her, or was just operating out of spite. Aki didn't know. All she saw looking over was the weighted ball being thrown and in trajectory to crash into Wes's head. Her eyes widened slightly. She wasn't Elly. She couldn't peer into someone's soul in order to determine their intentions. To her, what she saw was a killshot, one that she knew she wouldn't be able to react in time to stop.

"Transform!" She shouted. That was the fastest thing she could do, and even she wasn't sure if she would get the word out before the attack hit. Even if she did, she wasn't sure he would register her words with how hurt he already was.

RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/20267 | Monday
TIME—N/A

Gavril the Gregarious

---

Gavril was not a tactician. He was not a man of magnificent battle IQ, carefully laid plans, or advanced strategies. He was a soul that enjoyed a good fight and the feeling of victory in defying all odds. That was one of the very things that drove him to both seek out and participate in the high profile duels he engaged in all those years ago. The Star Clan, Steins, the Hoshi, the list went on. People of prolific lineage he had no place fighting. Yet, for some time, he floated along in these fights with some moderate amount of success... because iron sharpened iron. Because a strong will and a burning passion could compete with the untapped potential of good genetics held prisoner by an unfit owner. Because a scrap yard dog could compete with a born and bred fighter if it could handle the pressure when things came down to the wire.

That didn't mean Gavril was a man without thought. His instincts were sharpened through countless duels and his fighting style was one sculpted by experience.

He knew exactly how a chain weapon would operate because he knew one. He used one. Countless times, he had been both creative with Austin and impressed by the independent decisions his partner made. He saw the trap that Tala was setting up.

He wasn't about to let it happen. He couldn't entirely stop the plan set in motion, but he could at least deny her the fork she tried to create.

Step one: step in. Feng may not like it, but with two tags on her and the damage she already took, she needed to be distanced from Tala. Seeing both spiritually and through his own prepared awareness that Tala was intending to strike, Gavril lunged forward. Not to attack her specifically, but to make sure she couldn't. Feng might not have been the type to want a man, or for that fact anyone, to defend her, but there Gavril was. His presence alone acting like a bulwark against the empowered hand of the autonomous weapon. Even if she elected to strike him specifically, what mattered is that it wouldn't be on Feng. Besides, Austin was right there to counter attack.

Which led to Austin himself. One of the things that Gavril knew all too well was that chains interacted in all sorts of fucky ways when they were in air. Without resonance, most chain-type weapons couldn't control themselves. They weren't prehensile. They were slaves to physics and momentum. Tala threw her ball and that was trajectory it was commit to. That didn't mean it couldn't be adjusted. It just meant she couldn't easily adjust it.

Austin launched his own chain out, following the forward momentum of Gavril, but stopped only a few feet out. He wasn't going to race Tala. He would never win, she had too much of a head start. Instead, Gavril slammed his extended arm down, in turn yanking down that length of chain from Austin, and in turn hitting the chain link of Tala. In one fell swoop, her forward momentum was changed into angular momentum upward as Austin's chains slammed down on hers. When her chain couldn't go forward, the momentum from the ball end still wanted to go somewhere, and that was up.

Her plan was literally thrown up in the air.

Even if Wes couldn't react to the attack in time, it didn't matter. It would never reach him. Now Tala had to decide if she was going to man up and attack Gavril again, this time without that cheeky Self-Resonance.



Alma of the Broken Edge

---

"Why.... why am I not enough for you?"​

Alma didn't fight back. She didn't try to stop Aki. She didn't wrestle or resist. Aki got her tag and all that was needed was a few more seconds in delay for the next. All that Alma offered was that miserable, pitiful question full of self-loathing and doubt. A broken, gravely voice from a road of tears and rejection.

Aki saw, at least, that Wes would be fine due to Gavril, but Alma was an entirely different situation.



Kisei the Deadsoul

---

Thanks to Gauss, the tournament had shifted in a handful of ways. Now there were under a hundred remaining contestants and the few that avoided his electric minefield were out getting unearned tags on stunned targets.

Sitting ducks just like the four of them.

Kisei could barely breathe and his soul was aching, but he did have one card up his sleeve. Something he could do that pretty much no one else could in this situation. A way to prevent them from being eliminated without even a fight.

Despite his shadowy nature, Kisei was truly Japanese. His skin was not pallid or pale. It was golden, almost olive, as was most of those that shared his heritage. Many from his homeland were even darker due to the mountainous region they called home. That was about to change. His skin tone and clothes all at once began to become a mute, muddy white color, almost shifting to that of marble, before taking on a constantly-shifting pearlescent hue. A rainbow of colors on a purely gloss sheen reflecting all of the light of the laughing sun. Kisei took on his golem form.

Though he hated it so, it was the only way he could think to shorten the delay caused by the forced rejection. His golem form, which in and of itself was something he considered losing over using, had a natural resistance to spiritual attacks. Of course, at the cost of not being able to use them. Worse, it meant he would only have the last memories of the tournament grounds to work with before he left, as in this form he lost all of his senses.

Luckily, that was enough. He was training for exactly this. The sensory deprivation.

With greater control over this form, he was able to scoop Elly into his arms, peeling her off of that dickhead Roderick, and run off in what appeared to be a random direction. Not that he could talk or explain his plans to her at the moment, but there was something there.

He intended to run right into the fires Gauss first created where many of the opponents were eliminated. He would be immune to the burning and he would have Elly in a clear spot before the fire truly got to her. In short, he was fleeing and hoping for refuge in a place most others couldn't easily get to. Which, for the most part, worked. He escaped with Elly, likely to the confusion of anyone fighting nearby, as a white man of marble ran off with a girl. Instead of dealing with that, they simply approached Roderick. He would soon be eliminated, that mouth of his shut up, and at this point mostly used as bait for their escape.

It wasn't until they were in the refuge of the flames created by the witch-hating Scythe that Kisei reverted. He had Elly in a princess carry and though her bodily autonomy was returning, it still wasn't quite there yet. Not enough to stand, barely enough to breath comfortably. In truth, she had just became a literal ball and chain to her partner. While she recovered, he was mostly fine. Surrounded by the dancing flames that were slowly diminishing in height, all he could do was hope they went unnoticed. Or, hope anyone that stumbled onto them was someone he could take care of personally.

EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun Haze- Shotgunpenguin

​

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long
LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/20267​

Feng was beyond displeased with the current situation. If anything, she was furious. It was a small wonder so many had sat this out. This was no tournament, it was a place for all the interesting sorts of the project to be shown off like Zoo animals, as she looked around it was rapidly clear that no one here hardly had learned a damn thing. Not even herself, though this all did give her some thoughts to go over later in regard to the DWMA.

But that would come later, as she worked out what to do in regard to saving Wes, provided that was even possible, Feng would find a curious case, as Gav came to the rescue. Calming herself as he went to work to stop the of what was her opponent. It was a shame she didn't have the satisfaction of putting that one through some physical pain. The little bitch had escaped her comeuppance. The scenes that followed, that she processed, while she was exiting her berserker state, did absolutely nothing to improve her demeanor.

First, that one weapon just couldn't take the hint and was still bothering Aki, Wes was still on the ground, Gav had engaged Tala, and... With a furrow of her brow, Feng could only take in briefly that the one named Gauss was now using her partner to lay waste to the competition. Far more effectively than she had made use of him. Though that may of had more to do with the nature of his own being than in an inability on her part. Still, her honor had been damaged. First from the underhanded lunatics, secondly by what said lunatics had managed to do to her partners, and thirdly, her last remaining weapon that was in good condition was now in the hands of another, who was more or less stealing the show and would need to be dealt with. She wondered if Domas even retained control enough to not hit her with his attacks if Gauss decided to direct said lightning upon herself.

At least with all of this it was unlikely any cameras lingered on her side of things. It was time to deal with each of these things, one by one. First, it was time to arm herself, rules be damned to how useful it would be as she shot a hateful glare at Alma, moving to collect Aki, provided she cooperated. "Your mind is as broken as your soul. Take the hint and piss off, go to that Meister of yours to whore around with. Some people just don't swing your way. Aki, transform, we've given them their due. We need to collect Wes, I don't know what sort of shape he's in. Then to go get Domas back... "

"<They have made fools of us.>"

Regardless of how the situation would be resolved, Feng shifted her attention to Wes, waiting for Gavril to truly be in the fight with the Kusarigama woman, at which point she would bow towards him, her left hand gripping her right fist in a show of respect and appreciation commonly found among the Kung fu schools of China as she crouched down on the flats of both feet to stare at Wes. He was much too weak to survive the ordeals that would await. It wasn't fair to the EAT student without ambition that he would find himself in such situations, but Feng was resolved now to drag him more into things with the others, to train him to some degree. So that he would survive what was to come.

"Wes. If you can, transform, move towards me and focus on that alone, I'll get you... Sides, you and Aki may have things to talk about... If you can't, if you are that hurt, get out of the Ring, we have done what we could, yet more remains."

Interactions/mentions: EmperorsChosen (Aki) Shotgunpenguin (Wes) Breadman (Domas) Sir Les Paul (NPCs) The Regal Rper (various)

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer
Streets Near Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE - 10/31/20267​

Narrowing her eyes, Maria was unsure if her words were just that poorly laid out, or if it was the alcohol that addled his mind, as she smiled thinly, pondering how best to present what she had intended before crossing her left arm beneath her chest, capping the bicep of the right as she curled the hand of said arm into a fist, briefly tapping her chin before composing herself with a satisfactory explanation.

"Did you forget? Not so long ago you sought me out to teach you how to make chainmail. I did not figure you one to make or want plushies, nor am I interested in making you buy something not of your cut. You have never once asked of my creations in this regard. If that is what you wish to have then so be it... As to pay, I would not push you to buy something you can't pay for. If I wish to give you a discount or not is a matter of us knowing one another. All items sold have a profit margin in mind." With that all said and no one interested in their conversation, Maria hoped that would suffice.

Interactions: Merciless Medic (Raph)

 

[Azurian Dream]

Ashi Monsera
LOCATION—Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
DATE—10/31/2067 | Monday
Interactions: Sara Merciless Medic / Dante Pumpkid / Adrian Sir Les Paul

..................................................................................................

The situation turned tense as the two closed in on her. Ashi's mind raced with the new information conveyed by the rock thrown and destroyed by Adrian. He had picked up on the speed since the last time she had that race with him. He came onto her with one hand, fully transformed. Adrian was no fool; he knew she wouldn't fall for an entrapment, but what he did was more clever. Latching onto her latching hand as it missed Dante with one well-timed, executed spin from Sarah. A cuff strap was not expected, but worse, it eliminated many of the zombie's follow-up actions, leaving her dangerously open to Sarah.

"Me, sarcastic, never," Ashi smiled dangerously at Adrian, giving her the problem he had also provided the solution for, fully bodily. The option to take the hit to return the hit was enticing, but with no knowledge of Dantes's form, Ashi wouldn't risk taking an attack head-on to brute-force a counter in, so instead, Adrain would give Ashi some aid this time.

Twisting her hand towards the latch, Ashi did what no one would have projected in the chaos; she fully gripped the tether that held the cuff and the iron maiden together. In a war cry, Ashi swung with all her might in a tempoed spin, pulling Adrain with everything she had, swinging him in a full circle right for Sarah's right side like a makeshift mace shield to block the wolverine's incoming attack. At the end of the pull, though, Ashi released Adrian with a simple arm morph as she jumped back, but not before Dantes' bladed tip got a small hit right in the front of her right shoulder. A hiss of annoyance seemed to come from the wound as Ashi hadn't been a quick as she had hoped in her counter.

Not one to let up or let the duo regroup to pin her again, Ashi took an aggressive step forward, performing a sliding side kick right at Adrian's untransformed side, playing off the inertia to hopefully catch him mid-air before he could recollect himself. If Ashi wanted to fight Sarah or gain a semblance of victory in this match, she would have to force Adrian out first by whatever means necessary.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara & Dante​

Date: October 31, 2067 - Death Festival
Location: Death Colosseum, Death City, Nevada
Collab with Pumpkid
Interactions: Adrian, Ashi
Mentions: N/A
Sir Les Paul Azurian Dream
Dante's FC is potentially AI-Generated

Dante huffed, still not convinced with her reasoning, but that is the least of his problems when Sara briefed him on Ashi. He didn’t expect a zombie to join the competition, especially an indefatigable one with great power. If they are capable of tearing Adrian’s focus, and ally themselves with Sara, then Dante can only imagine how dangerous their new arrival is. Excitement bustled within. Heart racing, filled with adrenaline to see what Ashi is about. At the same time, Dante felt slightly jealous that his previous opponent had eyes for someone else. He clicked his tongue, now engaged with their battle against Ashi.

The green blade slashes are an interesting effect. Dante is totally clueless as to what Ashi is truly capable of. He can only put his faith in Sara, and follow her lead. To his surprise, Ashi’s speedy movement’s caused him to flinch. Just by her movements alone, Dante can already tell Ashi is indeed a troublesome foe. What’s more impressive was the fact that she alone removed a chunk of the ground, and flung it like it was a ball. Dante wasn’t going to admit, he is out of league. He may have a bit of training, but he is still rusty. His senses aren’t fully sharpened to deal with someone this strong. If anything, he felt behind. Knowing that irritated him, but did not deter him from giving his all. He will fight even with his tail tucked between his legs.

One thing Dante noticed through their battle was Ashi’s attacks strictly on Adrian. Sara must have realized also. The real threat is Adrian. Given his and Sara’s lack of bond, they would be easily taken care of. Despite his wishes, Dante took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, and speak with Sara in their soul space, ‘This Ashi chick is prioritizing Adrian. We have to keep her focus on us and save the smurf. I’m not done trying to kick his ass for all the crap he said.’

‘Yup.’ She thought back. Ashi was fast and strong. Not only did she go to throw Adrian at them, she also followed up with a roundhouse kick towards Adrian. She got one hit at least on Ashi with the bladed end of Dante’s halberd head, she felt it.

She braced herself as Adrian’s body was flung at her, digging her heels in as she held Dante in a guarded grip. With bent knees, she took the flung body head-on, holding Dante firmly as she let Adrian’s body move Dante against her as a sort of makeshift shock absorbing attempt. Once the momentum of Adrian was at least halved and she took a backstep to offset the impact of the throw, she suddenly pivoted around Adrian, twirling around him like a footballer would do to get around someone and letting Adrian fall behind her so she didn’t have to fight against the force of the throw too much to get in front of him. Sara used Dante again, twirling him around using the excess momentum she carried with her from twirling around Adrian as she came up with the flat end of Dante’s halberd head, trying to slap the underside of Ashi’s thigh with it. It was more so to get a glance in, as the kick was too fast to redirect.

Even though she used Dante like a strangely-shaped hammer, she wasn’t about to just cut up Ashi like that, nor was she about to use the edge of Dante’s form when Ashi was just shown to use her weapon form to grab. She didn’t want Dante’s holes in his weapon form to be violated again nor be easy to grab this time. If Ashi does try to form blades on other parts of her body to trap Dante, Sara was sure Adrian would do something to dislodge Dante again.

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Wes Kraven
Death Colosseum - Death City, Nevada
October 31'st


Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Aki) Sir Les Paul (NPC's) The Regal Rper (Gav)
Interactions: RedArmyShogun (Feng) ​

---

Wes was in hell. And no, despite what some may think, he was not just being dramatic. His head was still ringing, his throat was burning, his stomach was doing every single flip known to man, and he ached in places that he didn’t even know he could ache in. He didn’t even notice the heroic action that Gavril had taken, laid on the ground like a drunken bum wallowing in his own vomit. What he did notice however, was Alma’s choked words as Aki straddled her. Despite everything, all the weirdness, the sudden flirting with his partner, the barely concealed pain behind her tone made him pause.

Wes felt… weirdly sorry for her. Maybe it was the concussion, or maybe, in some twisted way, he could relate to her feelings of inadequacy. During the Egypt mission in the pyramids, as well as the entire New York mission from the church, the mercenaries and the witches, there were points where he felt as useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle. People got hurt because of him; Annika, Dani the pink haired woman who got shocked by the paladin, even the agents at the shelter who were slaughtered. Sure, doubting oneself over being rejected by a girl wasn’t exactly the same, but he could still empathise with her.

Before he could say anything however, Feng’s voice cut through the relative silence left behind after Alma’s sobbed words. He paused, now doubting whether he should even say anything at all. And what did Feng mean when she said that he and Aki had things to talk about? Sure, he supposed that she would probably have some critiques about his hand to hand combat skills, and their glaring lack of presence. Deciding that it was simply too much to bother thinking about right now, Wes gave a garbled response somewhere between ‘okay’ and ‘I can taste my kidneys’ before focusing on actually reaching Feng.

Unfortunately, things like ‘fine motor control’ and ‘sense of balance’ had been knocked out of him after his impromptu show and tell of his stomach contents. On the bright side however, one didn’t need either of those things when it came to rolling over like a log. As he rolled onto his side, he transformed into his weapon form, teetering on the edge as he rolled towards Feng with his string trailing behind him. He might have thought about how it made him an easy target for someone to just grab onto it, but right now all he was thinking about was getting back to Feng.

He finally came to a stop after bumping into Feng’s shin, tipping over onto the front part of the gong with a dull and metal thud. “If I ever ask you to let me join the festival again.” Wes groaned out, his voice sounding like he was still holding back the last dredges of his breakfast. “Please, say no.”

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Death Colosseum
Mission FATE Bracket, Deathfest Tournament
Status Focused

​

Tags: Pumpkid Merciless Medic Azurian Dream

Those bright blue eyes of his darted around his skull like pinballs on cocaine. He was assessing the situation in full.

Ashi was strong. Much stronger than he remembered her being. She could also transform more. This only cemented in the fact she must have became a Death Scythe.

It likely meant she had even more tricks up her sleeve. Just another reason to get her out ASAP.

It was almost unfair. She countered him in so many ways to begin with and now what few advantages he had were almost matched by her. Without Sara, he might not be able to pull out a win. And, if so, it wouldn't be an easy one.

He didn't have time to think about these things. They were distractions. Petty ideas of fairness and tricks would do him no good right now. Besides, it seemed Ashi (and himself, admittedly) overlooked a technicality in the rules. Points were given to the Demon Weapon that landed a tag. Ashi using Adrian as an impromptu mace meant that blunt hit Sara tried to block with Dante was in fact counted as a tag, if only because she didn't completely block it. Ashi wasn't awarded the tag; Adrian was. Still, in the moment, even this realization was a distraction.

Adrian needed to figure out the best possible avenue of attack. He had to still his mind.

Ashi released him via transforming her own arm. Sara blocked her incoming kick. Adrian had just a second. Just this one second.

Before landing on his feet, almost feline in that he had to adjust his body to land, he focused. Breathe in, breathe out. Tranquility. The garden at the Reiko estate. Her instructions on Calm Mind training. Her insistence that focus and a clear mind could do more than just block out evil and Madness. It could bring strength from within.

Clarity. An evaluation of the moment exactly as it was and as it would be when he acted. What he could do best in this moment, knowing what he did about his target. About what she had already done this fight.

Adrian darted forward. Not that he had gone far, it was only a couple feet since Sara stopped him. With her using Dante to block that kick, it created an opening. That kick had to pivot on hips and was for a brief moment only supported by a single leg. The other leg still needed to come down. This was the opening he needed, and now he operated with the knowledge that he alone was not strong enough to pin Ashi. He had to be more creative. He had to further refine the strategies he used previously.

While Sara was trying her own attack with Dante, Adrian slid around and under. Yet again, a cuff, this time his left hand to her ankle. Except this go around, he wouldn't give her a pivot to move on. His right arm transformed into the door of the Iron Maiden, blocking the foot she kicked with from descending. She would remain on one leg, lest she intended to step on the door of his shield. For that, even he even had a plan. A dozen spikes shot out from his chest and right arm and he plunged them into the ground with his own strength. He couldn't tear it up as she did, but he didn't need to. He only needed to prevent her from pushing him further down. She might be able to overpower him, but he doubted she could easily overpower both him and the resistance of the tournament floor.

In any other situation, his position would be pointless. That he knew. He couldn't attack from here. If she transformed the leg he cuffed, she would still be at the mercy of gravity. Which meant she was in a position just like he was a moment ago when she kicked him on the spike. The difference here was, she was outnumbered. All that Adrian did, he did to setup Sara. Pin Ashi in one spot, refuse to let her lower her leg, create a situation wherein even if she transformed, she would still be open. At best, she could transform into a chakram, but then what? Be picked up and thrown? There was a delay for full weapon transformations.

This was the best Adrian could come up with. Even if it failed, it would force Ashi to rethink every kick she made from hereon out. Without two feet planted firmly on the ground, there was an opening, and against multiple, agile opponents, openings were bound to be exploited.

"Didn't know sarcasm existed with the dinosaurs," Adrian shot back, another quick quip, perhaps poorly timed, but most were.