Day Two: Early Morning

[Saz]

Where the hell is everyone? The blue skinned alien thought to himself as he travelled the planet Dante under the cover of darkness, hunting for potential victims. How ironic, when he was on the defensive, trying to avoid getting caught up in a battle, the other competitors came to him. But now that he was on the lookout for some action, everyone had seemingly vanished.

"Wake up folks,? Karl Jak?s unmistakable voice came from the megaphones located all over the island. ?I'm sure you've all been quite tired since we've been here a full 24 hours! But it's not anywhere near over!?

Sazuaa reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water as he listened to the announcement.

?Here is the death list:

#01 Olibu
#19 Zangya
#32 Metal Koola

And now, it's time to announce the new forbidden zones! These zones will be activated in six hours! If you're in one of these spots at noon...BOOM! Hehe!

F5
E8.?

The alien took a swig from the bottle of water as he took a mental-note of the new forbidden zones.

?That's it! Good luck, all! Keep a steady look out over your shoulder, because we're only 24 hours and already we have record breaking number of backstabs and betrayals!

This is Karl, over and out!"

Sazuaa discarded the now empty water bottle, chucking it casually onto the ground.

It hadn?t been easy, but he had survived the first day. The day hadn?t started out very well, after his early encounter with Vegeta it looked like he might not make it past the first few hours. But he dug in deep, got abit of fortune and managed to keep himself alive.

Suddenly a rustle in the bushes behind him broke the non-transformers train of thought. Sazuaa quickly turned around, his open palm thrust forward, sparks of ki flashing around his hand, ready to attack. Standing before the non-transformer was a common red-fox staring blankly up at him, its eyes glowing a eerie greenish colour in the night.

?Huh, stupid vermin?? Sazuaa mumbled under his breath as he pointed his index finger at the fox and shot a ball of ki just next to the creatures feet, causing it sprint away in terror.

Sazuaa lifted his arm and switched on his scouter, hoping the device would detect a nearby competitor? But unfortunately there was nothing. All that he could do was to continue his hunt and hope he found a victim before day broke. It was going to prove alot more differcult to be stealthy in daylight, but with his injuries, he didn't really have any other choice.

[Jinpo]

?Maybe it?s better this way.? he pondered as he took a conservative swig of water. While the child?s musings tried to reassure himself that just being alive at the moment was a good thing, he didn?t believe it. It was not in his nature to lie back in the shadows. He loved to be waist deep in the action, so, as you can imagine, going nearly 24 hours without a fight in a competition based on the bloodsport drove the Namekian crazy. His only companion for the day had been his own thoughts. He was in agony. And as if on cue . . .

"Wake up folks, I'm sure you've all been quite tired since we've been here a full 24 hours! But it's not anywhere near over!? the host declared in his oh-so-annoying game show host accent.

Now, it was officially 24 hours. The moon hung in the air, seemingly still, taunting the child. He scoffed in disgust.

Here is the death list:

#01 Olibu
#19 Zangya
#32 Metal Koola?

Cargo stopped dead in his tracks.

?No way . . . it can?t be.? he mumbled to his feet. The kid?s world had just been turned upside down. He had only known the metallic being for a short period of time, but in that spell, he affected his life greatly. Tears escaped the ducts behind Cargo?s eyes and streamed down his face. The child had never had a father figure in his life but MK might have been the closest person to it. Whether he realized it or not, Cargo looked up to the alien. The changeling understood the jade-skinned warrior?s goal and he sympathized, and, in his own special way, he tried to help him. Metal Koola was a role model to the teenager. ?How can he be gone. It can?t be true! IT CAN?T BE!!!!? he bellowed, as he, all of a sudden, cocked his arm back and punched a hole in the nearest tree. The sound waves of his scream traveled quickly over the vast expanse known as Dante. Maybe now someone would come find him.

?That's it! Good luck, all! Keep a steady look out over your shoulder, because we're only 24 hours and already we have record breaking number of backstabs and betrayals!

This is Karl, over and out!"

?Screw you, jackass.?

11 Dead . . .

34 remaining . . .

Cargo was responsible for none of it . . . and it was testing his patience.

It had been a full day since the Namekian had entered this game and he had not seen a living soul. For that matter, he hadn?t even seen a corpse. The fact that ? of his opposition was eliminated was of no consequence to him. He had to find someone before he killed himself. Preferably, he wanted to find the son of a bitch who killed MK and rip his spine out. His anger was at a boil now and it was bubbling to the surface.

The Namekian picked up speed as he walked down his current path, only to stop abruptly due to a bunny rabbit scrounging for food directly in front of him. He was in no mood for anything cute right now.

?HOKAKU KON DAN!? Cargo exclaimed, trapping the bunny inside a disabling ball of golden energy.

?Do you value your life, cretin?? he said, nearly shouting at the rabbit. ?DO YOU?!?? Cargo clenched his outstretched fist, constricting the sphere around the animal. ?Why should you be able to live when he couldn?t? Tell me!? His blind rage clouded his thinking process. It was a game of death that both he and Koola signed up for. But now, that didn?t matter.

?AHHHHH!? he screamed as he launched his attack towards the nearest boulder. The ball crashed directly into it, causing an explosion of gargantuan proportions. Blood flew from the blast, smearing itself across Cargo?s countenance.

?Your killer won?t be so lucky . . . He will feel pain. I'll make sure of it.?

A droplet of the rabbit's blood had landed precisely on the furious adolescent?s iris, tinting it crimson. If only for a moment, he had become his worst nightmare.

[Raditzu]

"So how much longer are we going to be sitting here?"

It was a simple question, and definitely one worth asking. The answer, however, was not as forthcoming as one might have hoped. Android 17, the one who had done the asking, stared across a small fire at the long-haired saiya-jin. Raditzu, however, did not return his gaze. The saiyan seemed to be fixed intently upon a small composition notebook sitting open in his lap. Every few seconds the mighty warrior would scribble something in it, then mutter to himself for a while.

"Ahem... Rad? How much long--"

"Shhh!" Without even looking up, Raditzu silenced the android.

The android and the saiyan had spent quite a while wandering around the island. They hadn't covered nearly as much distance as they could have, but that was caused mostly by random detours. It seemed to 17 that Raditzu had taken up some kind of personal quest as they wandered about, but he had been unable to determine what exactly that quest was, not that it particularly. When they stumbled upon a small clearing, Rad had insisted that they take a short break and, after producing some firewood, had set to work in the notebook he had grabbed from the school.

"Ok..." Rad shoved his pen behind his ear and looked up to 17. "What were ya sayin'?"

"How much longer until we get moving again?" 17 leaned back slightly on the stump he had taken for a chair, his hands folded behind his head.

"Why? In a hurry t'get somewhere?"

"Not really," the android shrugged. "Just curious."

Without responding, Rad bent back over his notebook, inclining it slightly to get better lighting from the fire in front of him. It was not until Raditzu had gotten back to writing that 17 stood up. With casual steps, the machine-hybrid approached Raditzu. He turned towards the fire as he moved, as though it were drawing the majority of his attention. With only a few feet between 17 and his ally, the android sprang. A quick swipe of his hand landed the composition notebook in his hands.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rad jumped up from his stump-cum-chair and snatched at the notebook.

"Ha!" the android proclaimed triumphantly as he danced away from Rad's grasp. "Let's see what you're so interested in.

"Tch..." Rad jammed his pen back behind his ear and folded his arms across his chest.

With a mischievous grin, 17 flipped to the beginning of the notebook and started thumbing through the pages. He scanned through each page briefly as he went, though it didn't take him too long to reach the end. Having digested the contents, 17 closed the book and cocked an eyebrow at the saiyan author.

"And what is this supposed to be?"

"Wha..? Its a manual!" Rad shook his head. The answer should have been obvious.

"A manual... for what?"

"For my secret fighting techniques! Can'tcha read?" Rad pointed to the cover of the notebook, which was still in 17's hand.

"... Raditzu's secret..." a pause for the android to shake his head. "Fighting techniques..." 17 opened the notebook back up and scanned through them once more. "Alright, so show me how to do one of these techniques."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't do them."

"I could give them a try."

"Nuh-uh. You're missing something."

"Like what?"

Rad reached into his bag and flung his weapon at 17. The android caught the yo-yo and stared at it for several seconds. The notebook in one hand, a child's yo-yo in the other. He turned his eyes back up to Rad, his brow furrowed with what could have easily been misread as concern.

"Master that notebook and you'll be unbeatable!" Raditzu thrust a finger at the android. "You're the first student of Raditzu's Secret Yo-yo Techniques."

[Paragus]

It was really hard to scrape all the beans from the bottom of the round tin can. Para was famished so he made sure he didnt miss one single baked seed. The aged saiyan had gone back for seconds after filling his bag with all the can foods he can carry. It was nice to eat something other than bread for a change. The tiny food particles slid down his throat with a gulp of cold tap. It wouldnt be long before the team would have to be on the move again, so he had to eat while he could.

The scarred combatant slammed his bag onto the table with a thud-clank sound. The saiyan senior citizen leaned back in his chair and stretched out his limbs. The food had really hit the spot and he was ready for some real combat. Yamu sat across from him fixing the rusty nails in Kari?s head. Para feared for the person who had to fight her.

?Well that was good! But I think im finally full.?

?Its about time!? Jeice exclaimed dumbfounded over how slow an eater the saiyan is. ?O wait I forgot you have to gum your food. Sorry!?

Para lifted his empty can and chucked at Jeice?s red skull. Sadly that was the only real offensive action Para has seen on this island. He stared down at his machine gun, Bulma?s machine gun. He should be happy that he hasnt had to pull the trigger on the automatic weapon, but for some reason there was a lingering dissapointment. Whether it was because he was competing in a game in which you kill or because he hasnt had the chance to avenge his fallen comrade, he still felt it.

A ear piercing whistle interrupted his train of thought. Jeice had created the high pitched noise and was awaiting a response. Without a seconds delay, the green saibaman came running over to the table from his protection position. The tiny sproutling stopped right in front of Jeice and gave a salute.

?Ha ha. I taught him that!?

They were ready to go.

[Orion]

The sharp stabbing pains in Koola's side and left arm were starting to fade into a dull throbbing. That was a far more tolerable type of discomfort for the prince, as he examined his wounds delicately with his other hand. Bullets were imbedded into his skin, and dried blood caked around them, but despite the sting, he wasn't badly injured. Everything was still intact, and the inserted metal wouldn't prevent him too much from battle. All in all, the outcome of that skirmish could've been much worse.

"Son of a bitch!"

That's when Koola noticed the damage sustained by his father.

"Oh snap!" the prince cried out, seeing the huge chunk blown out of King Cold's shoulder. The emperor was gritting his teeth, wondering whether to leave his disabled arm attached or to rip the dead weight off. Koola looked over his dad a little more thoroughly; the considerable shotgun attack was the only scar that the king took away from the fight.

"Are you all right?" Koola inquired.

"Am I all right?!" Cold roared. "Am I all right? Do I look all right to you?!" His angry outburst was interrupted by a loud groan as pain spasmed through his torso.

"Are you gonna keep that?" the prince asked, referring to the dangling arm.

"Let's look around and see if we can find something --" Cold paused and moaned at the pain, "--to bandage it up or whatever."

"OK," Koola responded. "But just... take it easy. I'll lead."

The emperor didn't argue. "Let's go."

Unrolling his map, Koola inspected the landscape for possible locations. Running his finger on the paper, he stopped and pointed at a position.

"There?"

"No."

Koola reevaluated. "How about here?"

"Try again."

The changeling prince rolled up his map and threw it into his bag. "Let's just go for a walk then, shall we?"

The two began on their aimless journey to search for medical supplies. Although the battle had resulted in Cold's unfortunate situation, it snapped some of the mental chains that were so tightly affixed to him before. Now that they actually experienced two more people on the island, it seemed improbable that this was a trap set up to bring Cold and Koola into confrontation. A lot of the prince's suspicion slipped away from that point.

Not only that, but the battle forced the two blood relations to work in tandem to achieve a common goal; survival. Surprisingly, they bonded well in the heat of conflict, despite their lengthy absences from each other. Simple commands were barked, and the other knew exactly what to do. If they could find some supplies to fix Cold's arm, or at the very least bandage the wound, the Icer duo could prove to be a formidable force in this competition. The prince had no doubt.

"And so we begin our trek," Koola narrated. "We look for equipment to suture father's wound. As we continue our journey on this island, I know..."

Koola decided to narrate the next part in his mind, lest Cold hear it; as long as dad and I stick together, everything will be all right.

[Deo]

(Before I begin, let me say I've talked to the character's roleplayers in question and this is totally accepted)

There was an odd haze to his vision. The sleep still heavy in his eyes, and he grimaced. He must not have slept very well last night, his body felt like it was moving in slow motion, like taffy was stuck to the bottom of his feet. He almost wished he had a few shots of coffee in place of bottles of water.

His hand reached out, and clutched at one of the branches in front of him. Fingers twisting around the moist leaves, they bunched between his knuckles as he drew them back. He was wet, tired, and a bit smelly. Could definitely use a shower, at his rate the smell would give him away before anything else.

As he moved into the clearing, his pace slowed. He could hear the footsteps of another, near the small body of water that was situated in the middle of the island. The sound of water being lifted and dropping again echoed. The Saiyan standing now, in the center of the clearing, totally exposed as he tried to use silence as his only cover.

He squinted, his face matted with a combination of sweat and morning moisture. His eyes strained, and he could make out a lithe hand. Following it down, he caught sight of an arm, scraped, scarred, but still holding that eternal feminine build and complexion. The back was turned to him, and he caught a view of her shoulders, her wet hair, and the flick of her tail before he realized who this was.

"I'M GOING TO WIN THIS FUCKING THING!" she bellowed loudly. "AND ANY OF YOU WHO THINK YOU CAN BEAT ME, THIS IS FOR YOU!"

She uncupped her hands from her mouth and proudly flipped the bird to the room at large.

"...." His hand braced itself to his forehead, and he sighed. Her. The half crazy, half insane, half looney psycho wench......but she had a nice butt. He slapped his hand over his face, and groaned. What the hell was he thinking? Boy was gonna get himself shot.

But then again....she was NAKED. And NAKED meant UNARMED! AHAHAH. HE WOULD BE VICTORIOUS IN NUDITY! Without much thought (be it from the poor sleep, the poor diet or the image of femme flesh), he lunged forward, flying through the air towards the unsuspecting bare booty-bits.

His hands extended to grab at the woman's neck. Instead, he was greeted by two hands, one on his face, and the other in his stomach, he was promptly smashed down onto the shore. Stones jamming into his back, and a palm wedged over his head.

That could have gone better. Much better. But luckily, he was still breathing, nothing broken. Now would be a good time to counter....except...the hands were removed, and Kol was greeted with a nose about an inch from his own.

"................hi."

The male Saiyan had expected no mercy, a quick stab, or shot in the head or throat, maybe a taunt and a bit of torture. Instead, he was getting a pair of deep, almost black brown eyes gazing down at him. "...." Her facial features were nothing more then a bemused smile, she already had him pinned and clearly out matched him at their regular powers.

Kol knew that much, and he also had a feeling that she might have been one of the ones that had one of those oh so mystical power ups. Although he was unaware she had already used it and was in the point of recovery.

ALL THAT ASIDE! THERE WERE BOOBS NEAR HIS FACE!

Of course, he couldn't really see them, and to be at level with the flatted Kollifum, Celipa was already half soaked under water. She gave a grin, and leaned in closer. Beads of sweat began to form on the male's face. 'Ohfuckshe'sgonnaeatmyface' was what ran through his head about three hundred times as he shut his eyes. Fake death would still hurt...wouldn't it?

But instead of instant death, he felt the warm press of something moist. His eyes shot open, and all he could see was the underside of a neck just below the chin. And then it clicked. BATTLEFIELD PASSION.

It was like something out of some forged porn magazine's 'Letters to the Editor' section. One second, death and murder, the next, nookie. It took him a fair deal of effort not to flee for the fear that this was some cruel trick, but it apparently wasn't. She withdrew, not a hint of malice on her features, her tail twitching against his cheek.

Her lips parted, and she spoke. "Wake up folks."

"....wha?" Was his response, the air in front of him seeming to blur. His body starting to twitch beneath his skin, the muscles rolling as if...

"I'm sure you've all been quite tired since we've been here a full 24 hours! But it's not anywhere near over!" Was the voice that echoed once more from her lips. But it wasn't her's, it was....AHSHITBUTTER.

His eyes split wide open, and he acked. His pupils were nearly the size of pin points, and he looked down to see a tiny set of beady black eyes looking back at him.

The top of the trees shook, and the early birds were shaken from their nests as a half yell, half scream echoed loud enough to ring the non-existent rafters. It did well enough to drown out the remaining explanation of the new stats that would be happening today. Buckled over on the ground, hands at his throat, and hacking, Kol didn't seem to care anyways.

THERE HAD BEEN PRIMATE IN HIS MOUTH! POSSIBLY TONGUE! His right hand grabbed his tongue between it's thumb and forefinger, stretching it out while he scrubbed it with a small wad of crust from the bread. Then, he rinsed his mouth out with some of the water before spitting it like acid.

HE WOULD NEVER BE CLEAN AGAIN!

His tongue extended, he aimed the barrel of the ki shotgun at it. ONE SHOT! JUST ONE! AND THEN IT WOULD BE ALL BETTER! CLEAN IT WITH FIRE! PURIFICATION THROUGH EVAPORATION IS THE ONLY WAY!

"F5
E8"

Shit. Right. He was in the middle of a war zone. He didn't have time to worry about getting frenched by a monkey! He could just buy a few gallons of mouth wash with his prize, then get so drunk off his ass, the ensuing brain damage would remove all memory of it.

That was the only way. That.....or shot gunning himself in the tongue.

Gunny is funny, but boozer is.................he'd just rather get drunk. I don't have to f*cking impress you people.

-------------

About twenty minutes, and a good deal of crying later, Kol dusted his hands off. Admiring his handy work, he looked about. Various traps set up in seperate positions, his hands stained with dirt, he cheeked his tongue.

Another day, another time to relax in a tree with a horny monkey. And hey, this time he decided to stay in a tree that was bearing FRUIT. More then just bread, and the monkey would stay the hell out of his sack...and hopefully his mouth....

Climbing back up into the bow of a new tree's branches, he settled in and linked his hands behind his head. Patience.

[King Cold444]

It all started as a nap down by the little lake, where Cold figured that both of their electicity-based weapons would present them with some sort of advantage. He didn't expect the moonlight, lynched just over the murky waters, to seize the attention of the bitch and her cobalt-fleshed companion the way it did. He didn't even plan to stick around water with the shock rifle, fate just had a funny way of twisting events in favor of its own delight.

"My shit's just dangling, look at it." Cold expressed his thoughts quite well enough, trying his best to remain headstrong. Tears welled up in his eyes as he sat on the idea of discarding his arm, but then there was the chance that he could repair what damage he'd sustained to a point of functionality. Blood seeped through his fingers, where he tried to hold the tendons from severing under the burden of his arm. He had to decide his next move quickly. "I'm gonna keep it."

It was like no other pain Cold could describe. The fires of hell were one thing, while having your face disfigured and an eyeball melt in your head was another, but having your shoulder blown out of is intended position was nothing light. Purple oozed from the wound and dripped down the length of his arm as Koola lead them, treading carefully now to best avoid conflict. If worse came to worse and KC had no choice he'd wrench the arm from its place himself and try to mend the remaining wound with the shock rifle. He just hoped that he wouldn't pass out from the blood loss, because that was the last thing he'd needed right now.

"The... blue guy..." he gasped, his breath heavy. There was something seriously wrong with his injury, though he kept in veiled the best he could. Not that he didn't want to show weakness to his son, the unearthly blood that spattered the trail they carved vouched well enough for that. He just didn't want Koola to know the extent of the damage, for his own sake. "His gun was... in my nightmares tonight night.... Only, I was holding it..."

Had it been the work of karma? A dream about a weapon and it would come to him in the same night. He hoped for a way to mend his wounds to arrive by itself.

"If it comes down to you and me I hope you don't hesitate, because then you'd die. Just like that." Cold made a gesture with his fingers pointing at Koola, where his thumb clicked down to signify his demise.

Cold wheezed and coughed, spitting blood to the side and licking his parched lips. He reached down to his hip, pulling the silver hip flask that contained his water and taking a swig to ease his throat. Ironically, Cold was getting cold and the perspiration and sweat that doused him was his own. He shuddered under the chill of nightfall and allowed Koola to lead onward.

"If anything I'll get rid of the arm, but lets try to avoid anything that we don't need right now." The mighty King Cold added, longing for the luxury of a cigarette as he had back in Conquest.

"Pops, keep your voice down. We're trying to avoid people out here." Koola reminded the elder changeling.

[Kami]

A pirate and a Namek ran across the ground. Each with his own agenda but working together at the moment. "So I don't suppose you'll tell me what you're doing on this island?" Kami said inbetween strides.

"I might be in a position to ask you the same question my friend." Jack said, doing his best to keep up with the suprisingly quick Namekian. The ground rushed beneath the two as they moved.

"Well, as long as you don't tell me you're looking for a giant red 'X' painted on the ground I could probably believe you." Kami glanced over at Jack as his spoke, expecting to hear a reply.

Instead Jack tripped and fell flat on his face.

Kami turned around and helped the pirate back to his feet. "Actually, if you happen to know of any of those I wouldn't be opposed to making a quick detour." Jack spit some dirt out of his mouth. "Right then, let's keep a move on."

Kami took off running, with Jack close behind. They still hadn't bumped into anyone yet and the scouter wasn't picking anything up in the immediate area. He knew Jack was a pirate, which meant a long list of actions were to be expected from him. Still, he kept him around and kept on moving.