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Day Two: Early Morning - Burter - 06-05-2008
Day Two
Midnight - 6 AM
Midnight - 6 AM
"Congratulations if you can hear this! You've made it to Day Two! Only one person did not...
#14 Retane
Now, for the new danger zones:
D-1
D-4
I-2
I-9
D-8
Good luck warriors! Put on a good show!"
Day Two: Early Morning - Burter - 06-05-2008
Face to Face
Bardock, Reijin, Violet, Warako
Easter Egg: Xtra Large Medikit
Bardock, Reijin, Violet, Warako
Easter Egg: Xtra Large Medikit
Reijin was looking at it like it was a treasure chest, just laying in wait for him at the end of the pier.
Violet wasn't too crazy about the idea of fighting for something they didn't really need. Nothing was going to give Bardock his ear back. Even still, Bardock eyes his prize, ready to make a run for it.
The two saiyans looked to the side, down the street at each other. A moment of pause as they caught each other's gazes. Another fight? No...something else was at stake here. They had caused each other to need this item.
"I'm not here to fight you," Reijin warned.
Bardock smirked, "Then let's race."
As soon as the word was uttered, the two were off. Violet watched in shock as she had no chance to catch up to that kind of speed. She was tempted to raise her gun and take out Reijin in the middle of the contest, but she knew Bardock wouldn't appreciate cheating to win.
As for the saiyans, they were neck and neck. Even with his hurt arm, Reijin was bounding in front of Bardock, losing and gaining ground back and forth to his older comrade. They were so into the moment; into the thrill of the competition and the idea of besting another warrior, that she didn't notice a small clunking noise between them. A moment later, the grenade they passed erupted all over the docks, exploding the wooden pier behind them and sending both saiyans to the ground.
The last thing Bardock saw before he hit the water was Reijin falling after him. Everything was going in slow motion as both his eyes and ears were temporarily stunned from the blast. He raised up out of the water, shaking his head as he tried to figure out the situation.
"There!" He could hear Violet shouting, "The namekian took it! He went under the docks!"
Bardock shook his head as he tried to make out what was happening. Reijin grabbed his armor, pulling him close and screamed in his face. "Snap out of it! Come on! He has my medical kit!"
Finally the older saiyan was able to take in what had occured. Something exploded behind him and he was taken down into the water. Immediately, he bounded after Reijin, who apparantly saw what they were chasing.
Meanwhile, the burned namekian named Warako stumbled up onto a small island just off of the docks. He quickly stuffed his newly won medical kit into his bag. Just before he bounded off, a thick thud came from the tree behind him. When he looked, he found a large nail jolting out of it. Eyes wide and skin trembling, he spun around and threw his bag at the attacker.
Violet let out a grunt as the bag hit her chest, sending her backwards. She rolled back, then aimed her gun, but Warako had already bounded behind a large tree.
"No ya don't," Bardock greeted him. Warako stopped, surprised, and backed up. Bardock gripped his axe, holding it up. "You have something that belongs to me."
"No," came a disagreement. Warako turned to find another saiyan on his other side, this time Reijin. "It's mine."
"What's it gonna be, namek?" Bardock asked. "We gonna have trouble?"
"You know who to side with, kid," Rei urged.
Warako went from one side to the other, not really trusting either. He started to back up, to make a clear path from one saiyan to the saiyan. "I, uh...I think I'd rather let you two settle it."
Bardock and Reijin looked at each other. The younger-looking alien held his pitchfork pointed at Bardock, who had his axe faced down. "Let's just kill him," Rei offered.
"Sounds good."
Warako's eyes went wide as both saiyans bounded at him. The axe peirced his neck, slicing downwards into his shoulder and sending him backwards, slamming into tree. Reijin finished the job by thrusting his pitchfork forward, penetrating Warako's torso and effectively, his heart.
Violet walked behind the two, holding Warako's bag and her own, shocked at the sight. "Uh..." She said, noting the corpse and the two men stabbing it. "Gross."
#15 Warako DEAD
24 Remain
Two grenades are left. Them and the Xtra Large Medical Kit is up for grabs.
24 Remain
Two grenades are left. Them and the Xtra Large Medical Kit is up for grabs.
Day Two: Early Morning - Burter - 06-05-2008
Face to Face
Burter, Lethe, Mowgli
Burter, Lethe, Mowgli
Bored.
That described it. Mowgli had come into this competition to fight, and thus far all he had got to do was sit around and camp. All that was missing was a group singing campfire songs. And a fire. That was a big one.
He had been sitting out in the wilderness since he came back from the ruined city. He got enough food to last him and from then on, he just kinda chilled out and waited for somebody to show up. Nobody did.
Now, here it was, the second day and he was finally up and ready to fight. He grabbed his bag and headed off away from his campsite, to play the actual game.
"No, no!" Came a sudden voice in the distance. Immediately Mowgli crouched and moved closer. "Don't! I didn't mean to---Uck!"
Mowgli peaked out from the brush to see just one person laying there in the forest, motionless. Had he just heard the man's brutal death, or was he just hearing things? The man's bag still laid there, however, waiting for someone to snatch it.
The man couldn't help himself. Mowgli stood up and stepped over the bush, eyeing that bag and the possible weapon inside.
"That's right," the man said, "Come to Mowg--Urk!"
Blood spewed from the man's neck and the scythe pierced him from behind, slicing into the collar. A foot kicked Mowgli forward just as the collar detonated, blasting his throat apart and killing him just as he thudded to the ground.
Burter, the reptilian standing behind him, grinned. He grabbed the corpse and dragged it with one arm, pulling him over to the cowering figure in the center of the field: Lethe. "You were good bait," Burt hissed, "But that's all you're good for."
Lethe was looking up, notably terrified. His legs were shattered and his head was still oozing blood from the slash just above his brains. He watched as Burter rummaged through Mowgli's things and took out the supplies, and then threw it on top of the corpse. "What are you...doing?"
"Disposing of the remains," Burter explained. "You and him have good weapons. I don't want 'em, but I don't anyone else getting them either."
Burt threw Lethe's bag on top of him and then began to walk off, holding his scythe so the handle laid across the back of his neck. He then paused, turning around and raising up one scaly arm. Lethe's eyes lit up as he saw the ki forming. "Wait! Don't!"
The ki blast fired from the blue palm and hit Lethe directly in the neck, lighting up his collar and causing it to erupt. Combined with the ki laying in Mowgli's former weapon, a massive explosion erupted.
With the huge explosion as a backdrop, Burter walked away, holding his scythe in the same position, raised up above his head. He was officially a competitor. No longer was he just laying in the background of the game. Viewers across the universe now feared the idea that a reptilian could walk away with the title of Champion of Dante's Abyss.
"All fear Burter," he hissed to himself behind a silly grin, "Dante's own Angel of Death."
[SIZE="5"]#18 Lethe DEAD
#19 Mowgli DEAD[/SIZE]
22 Remain
The Ki Bazooka and the Power-Up Ring are both lost. For now.
Because of collar deaths, you're both really dead.
#19 Mowgli DEAD[/SIZE]
22 Remain
The Ki Bazooka and the Power-Up Ring are both lost. For now.
Because of collar deaths, you're both really dead.
Day Two: Early Morning - Talys - 06-05-2008
The general consensus of the group was not to rest for too long. In the Abyss little could be more dangerous. Three hours was the allotted time, an hours watch for each. Talys volunteered to late shift. He didn't intend to sleep much anyway.
So quiet, so serene, so. . .utterly boring. He thought to himself, toying with a unusually sharp rock he had found. Oh, the trouble I could cause.
Suddenly the flamboyant voice of their host tore through the muted clearing.
Quote:"Congratulations if you can hear this! You've made it to Day Two! Only one person did not...
#14 Retane
Now, for the new danger zones:
D-1
D-4
I-2
I-9
D-8
Good luck warriors! Put on a good show!"
Talys' face twisted into a grimace of disgust.
One death in the past six hours? That's it? So. . . The warrior looked into the air, counting briefly. Five so far, I think. . .And what do I get? A swift kick in the chest and a calm, slow moving group. . .utterly boring.
At the mental cue of the word 'boring', his attention returned to the disgusting image at his feet. Uno lay, staring with eyes closed to the stars, for all the world dead. All around the silver haired head lay similar sharpened stones, buried deep into the ground as if thrown with dark intentions. As a little added touch, a carved voice bubble stretched from his limp mouth outward reading: "I'm a moron."
No hard feelings, Uno. . .I'm just bored. The conscious warrior mentally spoke down to the sleeping body directly at his feet. Fuck. . .did I just express camaraderie? I am losing it. . .It would be so God damn easy!
Talys let out an audible growl of frustration and threw the rock down with frightening force. Right before the head splitting blow connected, though, he propelled his foot forward, connecting with the stone and sending it flying into a tree across the way. The projectile dug itself deep into the head of a Venisaur he had scraped there earlier.
The warrior paused for a moment and looked around the are again, surprised. On each of the trees in the immediate area was carved the shape of a different Pokemon character. Talys could not honestly remember placing them there.
He looked at his feet again.
Shit. . .I am going fucking crazy. . .What the hell am I doing? I have to play the good guy for now. . .
The competitor bent down and plucked the stones from the ground. He left the speech bubble, however. Uno may even find it funny.
Alright, now back to being inconspicuous before they wake up. . .this fucking thing is addicting.
With that last thought, Talys sat himself down and pulled his gaming console from its case.
Day Two: Early Morning - Zangya - 06-05-2008
It had been awhile since the quartet had spoken. They had remained silent for almost six hours, ever since Bojack had made his unexpected appearance. The group was split; Zangya and Celipa were in front, with Aero and Bojack tagging along in the rear—Aero slightly irked at having been the one designated to keep an eye on the fellow Ader.
“So,” Bojack said, breaking the silence, “Uh… my feet are tired. I want to rest.” The male Ader’s feet stopped, and the group turned around. They didn’t want to rest. They didn’t want to be susceptible.
“No.” Zangya’s mouth didn’t move much. Her head was throbbing, and she felt like rest was the only commodity she could keep. She wanted to wait until it was safe… until she had little chance of being ambushed. Right now, that chance wasn’t guaranteed. Only five people had been killed—twenty-one were still up for grabs to come and kill her.
Staying in one spot would not work.
The group kept moving, staying silent. Gokua hadn’t visited her for a long while, and she felt even more alone than before. She clutched her stomach and then glanced back at the men who were following—but to her surprise, only Aero stood in the picture that she expected there to be.
“Bojack?” she called. Celipa and Aero echoed these christenings. The group began to run back, retracing their steps, but they could not find Bojack. He was nowhere to be found. A blade of blue ki emerged in Zangya’s hand—if they were going to be ambushed, she was going to be ready. Suddenly, the smell of campfire cooking came into their sinuses. They peeked through the nearby bushes, and there was Bojack, sitting around the fire, stirring some stew.
“Now this crap doesn’t suck.”
OOC: A little post, but more is coming later today, don't worry.
Day Two: Early Morning - Burter - 06-05-2008
Face to Face
Kirano, Paragus, Talys, Uno
Kirano, Paragus, Talys, Uno
It was an easy target for the trio of warriors walking through the streets of the war-torn city. There was a blonde man standing in the middle of an intersection, as if talking to himself in his head. He was faced away with his bag at his feet, his eyes cast downwards.
Uno stood inbetween his comrades and pumped his shotgun. Paragus and Talys were both on different sides, each holding a small device. They had no bags, having stashed them away for the fight.
"Hey, pal," Uno said to the stranger. "Sorry about this."
"You..." the man began to mutter. He was visibly shaking as he looked over his shoulder, behind his blonde locks. "You're...sorry? No...I'm the one who's...sorry." He finally turned around the way, showing he was gripping a pistol. "Sorry that you picked the wrong guy to fuck with!"
They were all thinking it, but it was Talys who said it. "Oh, shit!"
Kirano was like a kid in a candy store as he unloaded his gun on the trio. Uno ducked, causing his gun to misfire up in the air. Paragus took two bullets in his torso as he tried to spin, causing him to fall backwards onto the pavement. Talys rolled to the side, moving behind a dismantled vehicle. They hadn't intended on the victim to attack them!
"What now, bitches?!" Kirano shouted, running forward at Uno. The shotgun-toting strategist took a hard bullet right in his stomach, blasting downwards. He laughed, shoving the man with glasses down to the side, and then began to run down the street, reloading his ki-gun as he ran. Talys immediately pushed himself up and gave chase.
Kirano lept over a car wrecked in the middle of the road, then spinning to aim his gun. Talys literally dodged a bullet by an inch by leaning backwards in mid-jump before kicking the blonde warrior in the chest. Kirano rolled up with Talys, smashing his body against the car and shattering the only window still on it.
Talys hit the ground, ready to strike back. However, when his head raised up, the front of the pistol hit his forehead, aiming down at him. "Time's up," Kirano told him.
"Put it down."
Kirano looked over, still holding Talys at gunpoint, About twenty feet away, Uno was holding up the shotgun with one arm and his bulletwound with the other. Paragus was behind him, also nursing his wounds.
The blonde just grinned at the situation. He was thriving off of holding all three of these warriors to their breaking points. "You put it down," he commanded, "You don't have the balls to shoot me and you don't have the skill to hit, anyway."
"Don't push me," Uno warned, his glasses starting to follow down to the rim of his nose.
"Shoot him!" Talys was shouting, "What the hell are you waiting for?!"
Kirano was still grinning as he looked down to Talys. "Can you handle it, four-eyes? Can you trust yourself to pull that trigger and hit me before I blow his brains out? Well? Can you?"
Uno started to shake. This wasn't his area of expertise. He thrived when it came to strategy and remained calm from the backline, giving out orders and directing the battlefield. But now everything depended on him. His life, Talys' life, Paragus' life...it all came down to this one shot. ...And he couldn't bring himself to pull that trigger.
"Fuck this!" Talys shouted. As Kirano looked at Uno, Talys grabbed hold of his arm and smashed it in the wrong direction, shattering the elbow joint and breaking the limb.
Kirano's eyes lit up, as if suddenly his personality shattered when he felt the meaning of pain. "Gah!" He grunted, falling to one knee. Somehow, he kept hold of his pistol, which he quickly used to slam into Talys' ankle and run into the nearest building.
Now with no consequence for missing, Uno fired the shotgun, hitting the window behind Kirano as he vanished into the building.
Nobody gave chase. Talys stood up, fuming. "If you're going to hold that," he told Uno, "Learn to fucking use it."
"Look, I..." Uno began.
"No, you look," Talys said, "Grow a set of balls or get out of my face."
Talys shouldered past the man, causing him to fall against the car thanks to his wound. Paragus was kneeling, still hurt from his own gunshots. As Talys treated his saiyan comrade, Uno was looking down.
Then he heard the last thing in the world he ever wanted to hear.
Looks like you need some help, old friend...
22 Remain
Paragus has been shot twice in the side. Minor injury.
Uno has been shot in the torso. Minor injury.
Kirano has a broken arm. Major injury.
Paragus has been shot twice in the side. Minor injury.
Uno has been shot in the torso. Minor injury.
Kirano has a broken arm. Major injury.
Day Two: Early Morning - Bardock - 06-05-2008
Before the two knew it, Reijin was gone and they were back in familiar surroundings. Bardock and Violet stood face to face, and each looked down, noticing something in the others’ hand. The saiyan gripped the medical kit tightly in his free hand, and the human was firmly palming a grenade. Both had grabbed something before they’d been whisked away. Bardock’s breathing was heavy, the rush of the kill electrifying his senses. He needed a few moments to let the buzz fade away. Things had gone exactly as he wanted them too, and to top it off, he’d managed to run into the younger saiyan again. Their mutual respect had allowed them to reach a common goal, and he would have to remember that later down the road.
Bardock rolled his neck and shoulders, letting the thrill of the moment pass as he got down to business. He squatted down, back to the female. She was not his favorite person at the moment. The fighter popped open the medical kit, and analyzed its contents with the flashlight from his scouter. Unfortunately, there was really nothing there that could give him back his ear, and he hadn’t even thought to pick it up wherever it now lay along the battlefield. Instead, he opened a packet of antiseptic and carefully cleaned off the area, disinfecting the wound. Within one of the compartments, he found something interesting: an assortment of artificial parts. There were robotic eyes, hearing aids, and bionic vocal chords. Well, he wasn’t going to get his earlobe back, but at least one of these was going to help. The fighter popped in the hearing aid, tuned it up high, and covered it with a light patch of gauze bandaging. Although the skin was still missing, he was good as new, and there were plenty more supplies left.
Still seething, Violet went off and sat by herself whilst the male busied himself with the usual work of setting up camp. Night had fallen, and it would not do well to go hunting in the dark. Many opportunities lay in wait there, as did so much potential for tragedy. Once finished, Bardock fumbled through his bag and began to chew on the supply of bread that had gone untouched, very particular not to touch the meat that had been cooked earlier. The grainy foodstuff tasted terrible, as it did every year, but it was something. He washed it down with a bit of water, and then set about his weapon. The trusty axe was now stained with blood, and Bardock carefully removed his crimson bandana, using it to clean the blade. Now the blood of Warako was a part of the legacy the cloth held. Within its stained threads was the spilled life-source of both friend and foe, even some of his own. Upon completion, he wrapped the cloth around his wrist for later. Pulling one of the knives from his boot, the fighter carved a deep notch in the wooden handle. One kill, one notch…a victim felled by its edge.
He could feel the eyes upon him, and he looked up, nothing but anger on his face, and nothing but anger staring back at him. All the good feeling of the kill was gone, a temporary drug against the emotion that whaled against him now.
I should have known better.
She was just like all of the others. She threw his effort back in his face. Same old story. When was it going to end? He was reminded why he decided to go it alone the previous year, and then none of this bullshit would ever bother him. He had lived most of his life by his own code, and it was working out pretty well so far. Bardock rustled through the medical kit again, taking stock of its wares. A few particular ingredients leapt out at him, and he had a choice to make. Setting the axe down, Bardock picked up the prized box and carried it over to where she sat. Still furious, Violet glared at him. His face wasn’t exactly friendly either.
Roughly, he grabbed her wounded shoulder, causing her to hiss and curse in pain. “Don’t fucking touch me!”
Ignoring her, he quickly disinfected the area around the wound, and grabbed her uncut hand in his, interlacing the digits. Just as rapidly, he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around the head of the nail, and forcefully pulled it out. She screamed, and he winced as her hand squeezed his with a strength that only comes from pain. Attempting to push his throbbing hand out of his mind, he dropped the nail and grabbed a little object that looked like a hot-glue gun. He placed the nozzle in the wound opening and pulled the trigger, and the cavity was quickly filled with a foaming substance that prevented her shoulder from hemorrhaging. Bardock’s squeezed hand felt like the bones were going to break, but after a few moments, the pressure eased. Gently, he unlocked his fingers and let them slip away. The saiya-jin released the gel gun, and grabbed her wrists, one at a time, rubbing ointment on the raw skin. When it came to the hand that was cut, he carefully inspected it before sterilizing it, wondering where exactly it had come from. He pulled a dressing from the kit and expertly bandaged the injury.
All of this with nothing but a look of pure fury on his face.
Bardock closed the kit, wrapped his blood-stained bandana around his forehead, got up, turned around, and walked away. Steam was building and he had to leave. He had to let it go, one way or another. On his way out, he picked up the axe, and angrily hurled it into a tree, where it thudded and stuck upon impact. Before he could stop himself, he let out a roar of frustration.
He hated this. He hated everything.
Day Two: Early Morning - Talys - 06-05-2008
"Well it's going to hurt like a bitch, but you'll live," The unharmed warrior looked up from the side of the elder saiyan. The two made eye contact for a brief moment before quickly looking away.
They're ashamed. Talys thought to himself, looking across the way to the motionless Uno. 'Specially Uno. . .
"How about that fight?" He joked loudly, trying to ease the mood. He was met with a thick silence.
Bastards. . .We finally have a chance to get some of the action and they freeze up? Morals, fear? These things don't exist in the Abyss, I thought they knew this. . .They're weak.
The tall fighter walked across the broken street to the secluded, plastic bench on the other side.
I don't get it, He thought as he positioned himself in a relaxed position, they had their chance yet I was the only one who even attempted to chase the guy down. Do they not understand the thrill of Dante's Abyss? They way my heart nearly pounded out of my chest with the gun pressed against my forehead, the rush I received starting down that pistol, the sickening delight awarded as the man's bones crunched beneath my hand. . .Do they not feel any of this?
Talys sighed and shook his head.
No, it was clear by Uno's face that they didn't. . .The only expression worn by that boy as he recklessly wielded his gun was that of terror. Weak, indecisive terror. Why. . .why would a person like that get the beautiful death dealing weapon that he received while I get landed with a fucking child's toy!?. . .No matter how entertaining that child's toy may be. . .
With a sneer, the fighter pulled out said game system and booted up the dreadfully addicting Pokemon Red.
I entered this tournament to hunt and fight. . .what do I get? Two fights. One of which was even the remotest bit worth while. I've become nothing more than a little kid.
He allowed himself to disappear into the world of Kanto for a long while. The bastard Paragus had saved over his file during his turn with the game and Talys had to start from the very beginning. He didn't stop until he arrived at Sabrina's Gym well over half way through the game.
"What the hell am I doing?" Talys murmured, shutting down the system. "Why am I hear? Why am I stuck with these two? I've had so many opportunities to end them and move on. . .they're well equipped, I could have taken their shit and moved on. . .but I can't, why?"
The Academy student shook his head, disappointed with himself.
"No, you can't let that happen, Talys. They taught you this. Do not allow yourself to become connected with these two. One day the fight will come and if you're too touchy feely about it, there's no way to win."
He simply shook his head, giving in. This game was finally getting to him.
"God damn it."
Day Two: Early Morning - Aero - 06-05-2008
“What? You can’t blame a Toby for eating, can you?” Bojack drank the stew from the bowl like a child drinking the remaining milk from soggy cereal. “It’s better than that shitty rabbit stuff. I felt like a jew on sabbath eating that trash. This, however, is much better. It’s turtle.”
Aero could feel his mouth salivating as he gazed at Bojack gulping down the stew, some of it spilling over on his face, and running down onto his attire. His nostrils widened, taking in the aroma. It smelled incredible, and reminded him of a good home-cooked meal. That was real food; not like the shit Celipa had made earlier. “Hey, Jack, think I could get some of that?” Aero asked as he approached the Ader and sat down on a stump.
“Get lost, kid,” Bojack replied, taking another sip from the bowl. “Get your own good food. Wtf I look like, the daily bread? Next thing you’ll be asking for is my clothes, and then sex.”
Aero arched a brow. “Look, you’re gonna watch who you talk to like that, kay, yo?” he remarked, hunching over and revealing a naked arm (he pulled the jacket sleeve up in hopes of frightening the blue man). “See this? This is grade-A American muscle. You can have all of it in your face if ya want. Special delivery. Like UPS.”
Bojack glanced over at the scrawny arm. “Put that little thing away,” he muttered, taking another sip before tossing the bowl into the depths of the forest.
Zangya and Celipa giggled to themselves from a distance.
“Hey, it’s not the size of it that matters, Jack, it’s what you do with it!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet and baring another arm. He tensed his biceps; they bulged from their positions. They were scrawny, defined but scrawny.
Zangya and Celipa shared another giggle from a few feet away. They couldn’t decide if Aero was trying to impress them in front of this other male or if he really wanted to fight. His personality permitted either.
“Hey, my arm may be skinny,” Aero said, unrolling his sleeves and walking over to Zangya and Celipa (they both look at him with sad pity as he returned). “But at least they’re long. And length is more important than girth.”
The two females could no longer control the giggles. They both burst out into full-fledged laughs.
“I have both,” Bojack replied. He folded his arms over his robust chest. His biceps appeared to be the size of Aero’s head. “You can’t tell me that one quality is better than both.”
“Like I said, I know how to use mine though.”
“I do too. And probably better.”
The laughter that Celipa shared with Zangya manifested into spasms as ranking snorts seized both of them. It couldn’t be helped. The discussion between the two men was a prime example of sexual innuendos in its finest hour. Things like that were (and always would be) humorous.
Aero whipped his head around and glared at the two women. “What are ya’ll laughin bout?” he asked with a mild, angrily tone.
“Nothing,” Zangya replied, a smile spread across her face.
“Yeah, nothing,” Celipa added as she wrapped her arm around Zangya. “Girl stuff. You know.”
Aero spat, as if he could still taste the coarse rabbit stew, and then folded his arms across his chest. Girls never just talked girl stuff, he thought. Girls talk about guys, money, and clothes; since there aren’t two of the three around, it has to be the first one. Then it hit him like a four ton anvil. “Aww! That’s wrong, so wrong!”
OOC: Just something to put up. Haven't really been feeling it as of late. sorry my readers.[ =/
Day Two: Early Morning - Zangya - 06-05-2008
Night was slowly waning over the group—as they left the forest, they could see the sun peeking over the horizon. The quartet walked in step, Aero and Bojack in the front, with Celipa and Zangya following close behind. Up ahead, Aero and Bojack had become fast friends, complaining about the two women’s interpretation of their previous conversation. Celipa and Zangya continued to giggle as they listened in, and Aero continued to turn around and scold them on their thoughts.
The landscape was covered with hills. That brought back bad memories to Zangya, a person who had faced much pain and injury because of her choice to attempt to scout out people. Of course, the other cause of this injury was standing right beside her. The two women stopped to gaze at their surroundings, smiling as memories rushed back to them.
“You want to climb that hill, Zangya?” Celipa joked. Zangya smiled, looking playfully at her former opponent. The endless banter was hilarious; it never ceased to amaze Zangya what she had been missing. For a year, she’d lived in darkness, associating with undesirable people like the Horsemen—and now, here she was, standing here with true friends, friends whom she could depend on to stand by her throughout the competition.
“Hey, you don’t have the shotgun now,” Zangya said. She skipped up to the top of the hill, and mirrored her former stance. She spotted Aero and Bojack as they halted their step to turn around and look, but, like last year, refrained from seeing Celipa—the woman skipped up the hill after her, and at the sound of this noise, Zangya pantomimed pointing a ki pistol that she didn’t have at the opponent and shooting.
Celipa dived behind a nearby boulder, pretending to load a non-existent shotgun. The saiyan girl looked out, aimed, and fired, but Zangya was too quick. She dodged the invisible bullet and watched as Celipa came and knocked her back with the shotgun. She stepped back, but was welcomed by an unseen shot to the head, and thus tumbled down the hill in the exact same style as last year. She got up, relatively unharmed, except for the dirt that had stained her clothes, and beckoned Celipa down the hill, and to rejoin the group.
Bojack and Aero simply applauded the girls’ reenactment. That was when Zangya spotted it, and whispered in Zangya’s ear what she was about to go after. Celipa nodded, and the two got into running stances, as if they were about to race. But there was one problem—the path they were set to take was about to plow straight through the two men! Aero jumped out of the way, but Bojack just looked bewildered, which was exactly what the two dames wanted.
They blasted straight into the male Ader, and quickly wrestled him to the ground. Celipa had him pinned to the ground while Zangya reached for the artifact that she had been looking for—the SURVIVAL BAG!
She and Celipa pulled the black duffle bag aside, rifling through it for whatever rations he may have kept over the past day. Those two were hungry, and even Celipa had to admit that her rabbit stew hadn’t been too tasty. Quickly, they each found a rather sizeable loaf of bread and bit down into it. Within seconds, the loaves of bread in their hands had disappeared, and the two princesses had moved on to the more liquefied contents of Bojack’s survival bag—the water. They each drank a full canteen, and then, finally, were satisfied. Bojack, on the other hand, was fuming.
“Hey,” Zangya noted, “You’ve got enough food and water left for one more day!”
Day Two: Early Morning - Android 17 - 06-05-2008
Who am I? The question reverberated in the android’s mind as he moved across the desolate stetch of land alongside Minoshia. For the first time in over a day, Seventeen was able to think clearly, without the interjection of the rasping, malicious presence that plagued his mind. Glancing over, the android took a moment to stare at the konat royalty, who had his narrowed, vengeful eyes glued on the horizon.
“Why are you staring at me?” Minoshia growled without tearing his attention away from the streamers of gold and orange clawing their way up from the horizon. Without a response, the machine-hybrid scowled once more and turned his focus back to the same vibrant panorama that the vile warrior seemed slightly entranced by.
Is this what I have been reduced to? The cyborg mused as the awkwardly silent pair of warriors continued their forward march. Someone coexisting with a child killer…a vulgar little bastard who gets off to mayhem? What does that make me? The thoughts caused the android’s vicious scowl to turn into a heavy frown. Although part of him was confused by the design his subconscious had made, there was also that facet of Seventeen’s thought processes that proposed no qualms with the mohawked warrior. And it was facts that like which caused the machine-hybrid to shiver.
Come on now, champ. It was back—the callow, serpentine voice that operated from the depths of the android’s mind, biding its time like a disease that was currently in remission. You know that you can’t say no to this delightful little arrangement. You said it yourself, you don’t have any friends in this game that wouldn’t stab you the moment you turned your back.
“Shut the fuck up,” Seventeen hissed, placing a palm to his eye as he started to stagger. The outburst had triggered the konat to draw his baseball bat and move back a few paces from the android. Minoshia’s lips moved as if he was speaking, but the wide-eyed android could hear nothing but a dull, relentless ringing.
It’s better to be with someone you know you shouldn’t trust. The voice continued, sounding rather calm in comparison to the erratic actions of the android. At least this way you know enough to never let your guard down. There’s no pseudo sense of security or friendship here. It added—sounding as if it was rather pleased with the logic it had devised during the cyborg’s short reprieve from its poisonous presence.
“I’m the captain of this ship!” Seventeen screamed shrilly, clenching his eyes closed as he forced his seemingly unresponsive legs to move forward. From a few feet away, the konat watched, appearing more startled than anything else as a faintly visible aura of ki began to hum around the android’s bony body.
You know I’m right. The voice remarked calmly as the machine-hybrid continued to convulse. You’ll need me before this is over… With that, a foreboding calm spread across the twisted chaos of the android’s mind. As the malign thoughts faded back into silence, Seventeen snapped back into reality—his eyes popping open as the light red aura that had begun to surge around his body faded into nonexistence.
“Do not do that,” Minoshia rasped as he sheathed his weapon and returned to his prior position. As he turned to his current traveling ‘partner’ (if that term could even be applied to the arrangement), Seventeen said nothing. He simply reciprocated the konat’s glare, and after a few moments, the two began to laugh. It wasn’t the jovial chuckling that two old friends would share, but rather a vocalization of the mutual resentment that the two shared.
Nevertheless, silence soon returned to its position of power, and without further communication or interaction, the awkward, uncharacteristic pairing of warriors continued their trek across the bleak landscape.
Day Two: Early Morning - Minoshia - 06-05-2008
Situations like these were not a strength for the child warrior, he was lost when it came to dealing with the unnecessarily awkward. Normally, when this type of occurrence confronted him, he would solve his problems by slaying and dismantling everyone and everything in his sight. In the eyes of the Konat, mayhem was the simplest solution to any enigma.
You want to kill him, don’t you? You want to pull back his head and slit his throat. You want to watch the blood pour down his neck and onto his chest as it becomes a cascading waterfall of death. You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Minoshia didn’t respond to the voice, the question seemed rhetorical; both parties knew that a murder would be the simplest solution to this complication. But that isn’t what we want, no it is not. He’s changed; we can see it in his eyes and read it from his body. There is something happening here, and we mustn’t let the past decide our future. It is what we want, not what you want, that actually matters. Never forget that, fool. He dropped his head, letting his chin hang mere centimeters from his chest. Rubbing his brow furiously, he tried to take the edge off the frustration and confusion that was pooling behind his eyes. How he had managed to partner with the one person he despised most in the world was something he would never understand, someone upstairs had slapped him in the face with a massive paddle called irony. Never the less, he had always respected the abilities of his raven haired adversary, and now there was something more to the equation; a change in the Android that was somehow refreshing.
“You’ve changed.” Minoshia shot towards his ‘partner’, his eyes never moving towards his target. Seventeen’s head, on the other hand, quickly shot in his direction and the Konat could feel the staring of his eyes burn holes through him. He didn’t respond with words, all he could manage was a grunt, after which his eyes returned to the horizon. That’s as good of a confirmation as any… It seems to be something he isn’t entirely thrilled about. “Even without the shouting fit…” Minoshia paused and motioned his hand backwards, indicating he meant the action that had taken place beforehand. He spoke with less menace than usual; there was hardly a snarl in his voice. “We could tell the moment we saw you.”
“We?” Seventeen shot back quickly, his head snapping around instantly. He was suddenly taken aback by the term Minoshia had used, as if a singular person using the term ‘we’ struck a particular nerve in him. Interesting reaction android… well played, well played. The Konat’s eyes darted from the ground to his nemesis, making it blatantly obvious that he noticed the reaction. Quickly jerking his head away, the raven haired warrior stared at his shoes with a grimace on his face. “You seem to be acting civil enough Minoshia, maybe you have changed too.” Eager to change the subject, he retorted with a particular poison in his voice.
“I wouldn’t count on that ‘droid.” The snarl and menace had returned to his voice, much like the fire that had been relit in his charcoal eyes. Brief moments of friendliness weren’t common between these two men, and they had to be destroyed immediately. “Seventeen.” He stated his name bluntly, hissing his name as if he were speaking of a deadly disease.
“Minoshia.” The acknowledgement was shot back in the same tone.
“We’re not so different, you and I.”
Day Two: Early Morning - Violet - 06-05-2008
Vivid blue eyes followed the Saiyan as he rose from his position before her, his fingers falling away from hers. He replaced the blood-red bandanna around his forehead, and suddenly, he was this rabid animal, his eyes two points of fire as the towering behemoth stood over her for a moment, the overabundance of hate and fury dancing wildly within the charcoal depths. The startling combination of cool moonlight and the flickering aura of the fire clashed against the raw fury painting his exotic features. He was still nothing less than handsome to her, even if he was a tad pissed off.
Maybe she shouldn’t have been so angry with him, or so damned needy. Truth be told, she didn’t know what the hell to do with him. His ever-changing moods made her head spin; every time she thought she had him figured out, BAM, he changed, and she was back at square one. Were all Saiyans like this? How in the hell could their females stand it? Was this just yet another mistake to her oh, too human logic?
She watched as he stalked away, his body aglow with a faint red aura. Fear and loss filled her with their uncomfortable presence, knowing that perhaps this latest verbal bout with the elder Saiyan had cost her something more than his friendship. Yeah, perhaps right now would be a good time to give him as much space as possible, and maybe she’d make it out of this fucking game alive, sans one Bardock.
Rising from her log, the strap of her pack in the unscathed hand, Violet observed the finely chiseled planes of his back in silent longing, eyes travelling along the perfection of it, absorbing how the muscles of his shoulder rippled as he gripped the axe within one massive hand. For a moment, she was tempted to touch him, to run her fingers across all of that velvety goodness, feel as his body moved beneath her hands. The sensation sparked an old memory, one that she had managed to forget up until now, one that she really doubted would ever come to fruition.
As the beast unleashed his rage, she fled into the cover of the trees, allowing the inky spill of darkness to encompass her as she searched for cover from the wild tempest that was surely about to break across the forest.
* * * * *
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry before;” Kayley murmured as she watched the projection of her captain on the massive screen. They’d managed to acquire the medicine pack, something that they desperately needed, especially if they ran into the bigger opponents.
“Do you blame him?” Briggs leaned his towering form against a steel girder, his eyes locked on the screen. “You know the Captain. He doesn’t take orders from anybody, and that’s exactly what she did.”
Kayley turned to face him, her eyes knitted with displeasure. “I would argue that, but I know how true that is.”
“I’m just waiting until he chops her head off. Maybe it’ll teach her to stop disappearing from the infirmary.” Smitty chuckled from his chair.
Sighing, the blonde teenager turned back to the television. “This isn’t looking good.”
“You ain’t kiddin’,” Briggs echoed her less than enthusiastic sigh. “You ain’t kiddin’.”
Day Two: Early Morning - Violet - 06-05-2008
The camp was far behind her now. Up ahead, she saw the unmistakable shine of water, the moonlight slicing down through the narrow crevice in the trees to dance across its rippling surface. Along its muddy bank, cat tails grew in sporadic patches, their oblong, bulbous heads swaying lightly with the long grasses cradling them. The songs of the woodland’s night prowling residents filled the quietude of the area. It was almost serene. Almost.
Her lithe figure made her way through the tall underbrush of the forest, towards the beckoning shine of the stream. Surely its chilly currents would ease this tension from her body, which was exactly what she needed right now. Sighing discontentedly, Violet dropped her bag beside a mossy rock, kicked her muddy boots off and padded barefoot into the water.
The cool liquid caressed her bare skin as she padded into the crystalline depths; she didn’t care that her clothes would get soaked, the only thing she wanted at this point was to sink into the water and let it envelop her in its yielding embrace. When it finally reached to just below her breasts, she leaned back into its cradle and floated on the gentle current, her eyes affixed to the infinite web of stars canvassing the midnight sky.
She remembered the taste of him on her lips, like some sort of strange candy as it rolled along her tongue, the sweet juice flowing down her throat as she drank down every inch him. He’d been rough, just as she liked it, without any cue from her end. It sent an old, familiar jolt shimmying up her spine as she recalled how his fingers clutched her to his hard frame. Her body warmed at the memory, but knew that it was just that: a memory.
She’d never feel that again, not now, not after the game, not ever. The loss of it was almost painful, a void forming where her heart used to be. He’d taken it, smashed it, incinerated it. There was no turning back now.
For the first time since the game began, she was ready to die. If she had to live through this game knowing that he hated her, it would be a wretched existence, and she just couldn’t keep going knowing how he really felt about her, knowing that at any moment, he could turn on her and clench yet another death to notch on his deadly axe’s handle.
She didn’t want to be another notch.
The water wasn’t helping her at all, so flipping onto her stomach, she peddled out of the water and back onto dry(ish) land. Stuffing her boots into her backpack, she walked back to camp, dripping wet, and terrified. As she entered the small camp, the fire had burned down to low, glowing embers, casting a faint orange glow around its circumference. Bardock was nowhere in sight, which both frightened and relieved her.
Dropping the pack down a few feet from the fire, her boots laying beside them, Vi stretched out on the tousled grass. It was hard, cold and uncomfortable, small pebbles digging into her skin as she curled onto her side, the bag serving as a crude pillow to her tired head. The crackling embers lulled her as she closed her eyes. Finally, sleep claimed the fatigued warrior, dragging her into the depths of a sleep so deep, she didn’t stir when a branch snapped mere inches from her head.
Day Two: Early Morning - Android 17 - 06-05-2008
“We’re not so different, you and I,” the konat’s words caused the android’s upper lip to twitch. Within the recesses of Seventeen’s mind, there was an almighty ringing that triggered him to pitch forward. Before the mohawked warrior could notice the erratic movement, the android straightened himself out—shaking his head slightly as he wrested with the buzzing in his head.
We’re not so different, you and I. The words repeated in the cyborg’s head as the strange pairing of rivals marched onward into the horizon. Deep within Seventeen’s subconscious, he could sense the cold, familiar presence that had begun as an unwelcome guest at the start of the game. But now…now the vicious, barbaric musings that cropped up in the back of his head were beginning to feel less foreign than they ever had. For one reason or another, the android was compelled not to dismiss them as quickly as he would have earlier in the game.
He’s right. The formless voice spoke, conveying his words with what sounded almost like glee to Seventeen. He’s not so different from us. There it was again—the plurality that the disembodied speaker had peppered into his rasping speeches throughout the innumerable that he had made his presence known to the android. The thoughts caused a shiver to cascade down Seventeen’s spine, and without another thought, he plunged into his duffel bag and produced the cartoon of cigarettes that he had lifted from the abandoned convenience store.
Minoshia, noticing the quick movement of the android’s hand, immediately tensed up and looked as if he was a second away from drawing his bat and hitting a homerun. When he saw that logo on the tiny carboard box, he seemed to relax and soon thereafter returned his attention back toward the horizon. With a snicker, Seventeen popped open the lid of the small container and fished out the last cigarette—the one he had opted to save for a special occasion.
Given his current circumstances and his decision in where to place his allegiances, the cybernetic warrior figured that the current situation fell into the category of ‘special occasion.’ Igniting the cigarette with a tiny amount of ki formed around his fingertip, Seventeen took his first drag on the cigarette and let it out in a large puff of smoke that was quickly blown away by the swirling, arid winds that cut across the wastelands.
With a relieved sigh, the android took the base of the cigarette into his fingertips and let it swing down to his side. Minoshia—ever the overly observant type—had been watching Seventeen’s movements out of the corner of his eye. Upon realizing that fact, the cyborg lifted the cigarette and held it out in front of his traveling ‘partner,’ Turning his head, the konat warrior stared at the android for a few moments before he shifted his attention to the extended cigarette.
Smiling faintly, the android extended the rolled tobacco closer to the dark prince, and with a look of immense apprehension, Minoshia reached out and grabbed the cigarette from Seventeen. As the machine-hybrid watched, the mohawked warrior rolled the end of the coffin nail between his fingers. He seemed to be analyzing it to ensure that it wasn’t some type of miniature explosive. With a frown, he held it up to his nose and took a brief smell, as if trying to see if he could smell any hint of poison within the processed material.
Grunting to capture the attention of the konat, Seventeen pantomimed the purpose of the cigarette by holding his fingers up to his mouth and taking in a deep breath of air. Although he didn’t acknowledge the android’s assistance, Minoshia nevertheless put the end of the rolled tobacco into his mouth and took a deep drag from it as the machine-hybrid paused mid-step.
Almost as soon as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips, the Dark Prince began to cough, causing smoke to escape from his mouth in rapid bursts. Despite his better judgment, Seventeen couldn’t help but snicker, which prompted the konat to growl in frustration. Before the android had a chance to ask for his cigarette back, Minoshia crushed it in his palm and scattered the still burning fragments into winds. A cold frown spread across the cyborg’s ghostly white visage as they two continued their silent, tense journey across the unimpressive landscape.
Stop being so cutesy, you bitch. The formless voice interjected, causing the android to cringe once more as he walked alongside his rival. You spoil this for us, and I will see you burn. The strange, violent remark caused Seventeen to arch and eyebrow, but try as he might, the cyborg knew that he had to listen to the advice of the vicious, insidious presence. Earlier their might have been an argument between Seventeen and the voice, but at this point, their once autonomous mentalities were starting to bleed together.
“I suppose you’re right,” Seventeen muttered beneath his breath as the two reached the top of small prominence. In the distance, they could see a large depression in the surface of the earth, and even farther, there was the endless ocean that surrounded the island. “We’re not,” he added softly as Minoshia turned to look at him. It took a brief moment for the konat to register the remark, but when he did, the machine-hybrid was certain he saw a glint in his rival’s eye.
Day Two: Early Morning - Vazko - 06-06-2008
Vazko wasn't planning on moving to a different location any time soon. Once he had found a comfortable spot, he ended up settling there for the rest of the night. Even though he was full of energy, and always prepared for a fight, he figured he would just wait and see if anyone would run into him. Hours and hours slowly passed by, and Vaz sat in complete silence. He occasionally took a few bites from his bread supply, and listened intently whenever the host's flamboyant voice boomed across the sky. As the new danger zones were called out, the young halfling would pull out his map and mark off the zones. He wanted to make sure that he didn't run into any surprises.
Early morning finally came, and Vazko was already wide awake by the time Karl Jak joyfully shouted over the island.
"Congratulations if you can hear this! You've made it to Day Two! Only one person did not... #14 Retane. Now, for the new danger zones..."
Vazko quietly unzipped his duffel bag and pulled out the map. He did his usual danger zone tracking routine, and then slipped it back into the survival kit. His only source of light at the time was the bright moon towering overhead.
"Good luck warriors! Put on a good show!"
After hearing that another contestant didn't make it to Day Two, it caused the black-haired warrior to wonder even more about what he'd be up against. The other fighters out there must be some tough ones to beat. Vaz grabbed the bag and jumped back up to his feet. He then slung it over his shoulder and briefly stretched out his legs.
So he had actually made it to the second day on the island, but he hadn't really learned much more about the Abyss than when he first signed up for the tournament. He hadn't seen a living soul yet, but from the eight or so contestants that were killed yesterday, he knew that the fighting had definitely begun.
With his fresh legs now fully amped and ready to go, Vazko quickly sprinted off. He felt as though he had sat in one spot for too long, and it was time to go exploring once again. One part of him was hoping that he'd find another comfortable spot to rest again, while the other part of him was determined for a confrontation with another opponent. He felt adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins again as he ran. He would be prepared to face anyone who jumped in his way.
"I'm tired of waiting. Bring it on." The saiyan halfling said harshly under his breath, aggressively darting in and out of several trees. He was ready for the start of Day Two...
Day Two: Early Morning - Minoshia - 06-06-2008
As the softly spoken words escaped the lips of his raven haired ally and entered his ear it took a long moment for the Konat to register what had just happened. One sentence had changed the relationship between the two men, had they happened open each other a month ago or a year ago they would have been at each other’s throats at the drop of a hat. Change seemed to be the theme of the Abyss for the Konat, for better or for worse. The unlikely duo now stood alone atop the pinnacle of a small rise, looking out towards the vast ocean that ultimately encompassed every competitor. The sun had began to seize its periodical reign over the heavens for the second time since he’d come to Dante. The brilliant colors painted the horizon with a bleeding mixture of pinks and oranges, the mad artist had once again accomplished beauty. He couldn’t help striking comparisons between his current situation and the occurrence unfolding before his eyes. The rise of the sun marks a new day, perhaps this night could mark a new chapter for us and Seventeen… But we must not be hasty; we must not let our guard down.
“Stop.” Minoshia slid his bag off his shoulder and let it fall to the ground, slapping the soft grass as the material collided with the Earth. Seventeen slowed up and looked back at the Konat, turning his body ever so slightly. A quizzical look crossed his brow; his eyes remained solid and unchanging. “Let’s rest before the heat comes.” He pointed towards the horizon; his motioning hand was met with a nod from the android, who let his bag slip to the ground in a similar fashion. The two lowered themselves to the ground in unison, both watching the other – each man guarding themselves from any foul play. Seventeen chuckled as he noticed how protective both warriors were being, Minoshia reciprocated the brief laugh.
The two sat in silence, both waiting for the other to break the ice and create conversation. Meanwhile, they each fished through their bags and pulled out small canteens of water. The Dark Prince returned to his sack after he had retrieved the water and produced a small package; peeling back the wrap he tilted his hand so his counterpart could see the rabbit meat.
“Raw?” A disgusted tone escaped the lips of the cyborg. The mohawked warrior shook his head and let out another small chuckle, he had nearly laughed on three different occasions today – that must have been a record. Ripping the meat in half, he tossed the slightly larger half to his old nemesis and laid his own portion down across his lap. Bringing his hand back in front of him, he produced a small amount of energy in his palm. Seventeen recoiled backwards and dropped his portion. Noting the reaction, Minoshia held up his other hand and signaled for the android to wait, and surprisingly he did. The amount of trust between the two had increased a hundred percent in the past few hours. Bright red flames began to flicker in his hand and descend from his palm to the grassy ground between the two partners. The fireball floated, bouncing slightly and flickering with pulsing intensity, the tongues licked upwards at the partially darkened sky.
“Now, we eat.” Minoshia locked eyes with Seventeen for a moment, before lowering his gaze to the fire and held the meat slightly above the flame – cooking it slowly. The android followed suit, and the two warriors began their small scale Dante feast. Probably the only activity, other than fighting each other, the two had ever done in the company of the other.
“It’s been a long time, Minoshia.” The android looked across the fire as he rotated his portion of meat, letting it cook evenly. The Konat nodded, a menacing grim crossed his face as he remembered the last two encounters with this warrior. The warrior opposite the fire had a similar expression, for he too was remembering their past endeavors.
“Some things have changed, as they always do.” He paused to let his eyes meet his partners, hinting at his interest in the change the ‘droid had experienced since they last met. “And some things never do…” He snarled slightly.
“Agreed.” Seventeen shot back across the licking tongues of fire. Hostility between the two had momentarily flared at the slight mention of their past rivalries. The two had each succeeded in killing the other in previous versions of this competition.
“What else has changed?” Minoshia stopped for a moment and brought the cooked meat to his lips, ripping a small portion from the rabbit and chewing it intensely. After a moment his throat tightened and relaxed, allowing the food to slide down his throat. “Still playing guardian to that herd of weaklings…” His voice hissed at the mention of his ex-alliance members, the original guard of Civil Unrest. “… and Violet?”
Day Two: Early Morning - Kirano - 06-06-2008
Kirano had not achieved anything by waiting patiently for intruders to show up within his boundaries, even worse, he had run out of food supplies. No action; that was not his idea of fun. It was because of his boredom and lack of food resources that he vacated the building in pursuit of two types of prey; food and DA competitors. Fortunately, he had deserted the building at the right time, encountering three fresh participants. It was a three on one clash. It seemed perfect. There was nothing he adored more than being at a disadvantage, but unfortunately, the fight had ended up below his expectations. A broken arm, that was all? Three against one and that was the best they could do? It just was not good enough. Kirano could not even feel the pain of broken bones, the pain, which had pleasured him endlessly during the violent encounter. What good was pleasure without physical pain? According to the broken armed individual, it was no good. A broken arm to him was nothing. Breaking his spirit would have been a very painful fate, but they had failed to do so.
Damn it, thought an angered Kirano plunging his active fist into the ground, managing to crack the concrete a little. The purple haired warrior amongst the trio, who had hesitated to attack him, reminded Kirano of his former self during the begging of the competition; afraid. Those who fear battle are weak, spineless cowards. I am thankful I have transformed from my former cowardly self, into this…fearless, bloodlust warrior. The only thing the purple haired man’s actions had managed to do was assault Kirano’s honor. He certainly did not deserve the title ‘warrior’. Using his teeth, he shredded viciously into the fried wing of a hawk. The hybrid had to survive by any means necessary, which meant eating things he would never dream of eating. He had to stay alive, redeem himself of his earlier performance, failing to kill. This was not how he expected his first showdown to turn out. His mind could not stop telling him how much of a failure he was.
He remembered the one eyed saiyan amongst the trio who attacked him. Kirano was sure the one eyed, old man was the same saiyan he encountered during his previous visit to earth. Ironically, he and the saiyan, whose name he could not remember, we allies at one time. All of that did not matter anymore. This one eyed man was surely not an ally anymore. He had broken the hybrids arm. If the young man even saw the ape again, he would remove his remaining eye from the socket.
There was an old saying that came back to the earthling, while he decided to smartly ration his food, even though he could have done with a little more inside him, primitively using his active hand to stuff the remains of his meal into his bag. The old saying was; ‘what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.’ Kirano was not physically stronger, but mentally. The determined hybrid would not rest until he was granted his share of satisfaction, the deaths of others in his hand. Their pain would be his pleasure.
Hmph, so this is what Dante's Abyss does to a person. I have, he thought, as blood slowly began to swell in his eyes, become a beast. May the blood of my enemies rain upon me. There was no mistaking it. The compassionate Kirano earth once knew was gone.
Day Two: Early Morning - Zangya - 06-06-2008
The sun had risen. Zangya noted that her clock put them only half-an-hour away from Karl Jak’s next announcement—she hoped it would be more entertaining than the last. Only one person dead? Mind you, it was Retane—and Zangya had to admit she wasn’t too sad to see him leave. She knew he had been gunning for her—it hadn’t been so long that she had forgotten.
Amun-Ra-Horakhty was no more. The young woman—the Goddess of Fear—took her place beside her three companions, not with a sense of companionship, but a sense of fear at what they would do to her if she did not comply. The Namekian stood strong; he was most definitely their leader figure. The child stood eagerly. He obviously had a fetish for violent acts. The shinobi was more… concentrated. Zangya, on the other hand, was in fear.
Suddenly, that fear returned to her. She had felt the energy of another one of those companions in the competition as well. Minoshia—she had seen him at the compound, and thought him a friend. She had forgotten what had happened so long ago. Such a long time ago…
Retane was the first to feel the cold blade upon his neck. Fear was something Zangya had taught herself to use—now, Retane was getting the brunt of this use. One of her moon daggers made itself at home neck to the Namekian’s décolletage, and soon, Zangya could see the sweat on the brow of her victim. She sighed with relief. But this battle had not been won yet.
Retane’s grudge began with this. It wasn’t like Zangya could blame him—he had plenty of reason to hate her. She had betrayed him, and in fear, had attacked him. He had not given in, though. Retane was no weakling, and wasn’t about to let Zangya defeat him. He was a prideful Namekian, as much as he was single-focused—that is, focused on the kill at hand, and nothing further—and he was not going to let some puny little Ader take that pride from him.
The Namekian reached up calmly and grasped the blade of the dagger. He didn’t care that the cutting edge sliced into his emerald skin. He didn’t care that suddenly, violet blood was flowing like a waterfall down his arm. No—he took the dagger, snatching it from its owner. Zangya stepped back. Fear had done her no good in this battle.
The warm hand caressed her shoulder. Gokua was back. “You nearly killed me back then.” He spoke calmly, and without anger. She nodded.
“I wish you had killed me,” the female Ader-jin said. If she had died during her battle with Gokua, then she never would’ve had reason to betray the Horsemen.
“No,” Gokua chastised her, “You don’t.” He was right. She was happy to be alive. Suddenly, she recalled the last bit of that short battle.
Retane’s bloody hand closed around the dagger. He stepped towards her, preparing to go in for the kill. This harlot had just tried to do him in—and in his time of weakness, in his time of victory! Zangya looked to Murasaki. His hand was on his blade, prepped to kill her if she tried to resist. Minoshia, however, stood there, watching Retane prepare to slaughter the Ader. He swung the blade down, but it was stopped by a vision… a vision of Retane’s greatest fear, embodied in Zangya’s shield. The Namekian dropped the dagger, and Zangya hovered away. She had won the battle. But the war was far from over.
She looked to Aero. “Aero…”
“Yes?”
“Are you—are you a part of an alliance? I need a family.”
Day Two: Early Morning - Bardock - 06-06-2008
Bardock couldn’t stop howling. There was more than a good chance somebody was going to hear him, but he didn’t care. Woe betide the poor fool who found him in this state. No sleep was going to come to him tonight.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He hadn’t meant for things to turn out this way. The first time…the first time he’d turned the axe on her, it had been an accident. He had been so intent on watching his own back, so alert for the presence of danger, that he’d forgotten she was with him. Except the fear in her eyes had been real enough. Bardock had been up front since the beginning that things would be hectic, but he had always intended to state his objective if it came down to that. Of course, the second time, the fighter had been aiming to kill, his mind separating the two. He didn’t see that as the mistake…the mistake was trying to open up about it afterwards. All he’d been attempting to do was to communicate, to prove to himself that she was going to be different, but she wasn’t. How could he have expected her to be? Maybe this was why saiya-jins were only meant to live on Vegeta-sei.
It’s just a fucking game! his mind screamed. It doesn’t mean a damn thing!
This was supposed to be release, just a little fun before you moved on with the rest of your life. Maybe you dug the prize, the title, the fame, maybe you dug the thrill of the hunt. Either way, it was an indulgence that for one reason or another they’d all entered of their own free will.
Bardock smashed his fist into a tree, the trunk splintering and cracking all the way up and down. The fighter couldn’t even figure out how the pair had made it past the first day. It all seemed like a good idea back on the ship, all that time ago. There, things had been awkward, but he had felt something. Here, they didn’t make sense. They were complete opposites: different ideals, different methods of approach. Just too different.
So why didn’t he pack up and leave, and go his own way?
Because you’ve already made your decision…
No matter how much things didn’t make sense, and no matter how unlikely his choices had been, he’d pulled her up from the edge of the cliff, and he’d parted out some of his medical supplies so she could have a better chance of defending herself, even after trying to kill her. Bardock wasn’t going to go back on his code: if it came down to it, if it was only the two of them, then he would make the executive decision. Until then, he was just going to have to do his best to make it work. Things were broken, and he didn’t know how to fix them. Violet annoyed the hell out of him, he didn’t understand her, she didn’t understand him, they were both angry at each other now, and none of this made sense. He spoke truthfully, he didn’t need her there. The second half of the equation was just missing. He didn’t need her there, but…he wanted her there. That had been all he was trying to say. And the human had spat in his face, made him feel like a fool for even bothering.
The warrior stopped, having gone far enough. What lay before him was tempting: emptiness, freedom. However, he couldn’t walk the path, if only because he’d left his weapon and supplies back at the camp. Bardock’s hardened features softened. He wasn’t giving up this time. He turned around, looking at the path of destruction he’d carved. Most of it, he didn’t even remember, he had been so furious. Slowly and silently, the bronze bruiser made his way back to camp. Immediately, he noticed that Violet had fallen asleep by herself. The saiyan shook his head. Sleep was a necessity, he couldn’t deny that. Out here, there were certain precautions that needed to be taken. No doubt, she was just as exhausted as he from their blow-out.
He approached her a little closer, foot cracking across a branch next to her head. Instantly, Bardock paused, but she did not arise. Even worse. If he had intended on attacking her, she would have been dead in less than a second. Fortunately, that was not his purpose. Violet was sopping wet, threatening exposure. Geez, it was one mistake after another. Still somewhat angry, Bardock nonetheless went to his pack and produced a blanket he’d pilfered from the sporting goods store. At the time, he had only predicted taking care of himself, so he’d only grabbed one, but somebody needed to keep watch and the male was not going to be making use of it tonight. The sun was scheduled to rise soon, and at that point, they were better off on the move.
Bardock draped the blanket over her unconscious form and went to retrieve his axe, still embedded in the tree. He stoked the fire, reviving its dying flames, and settled himself in for the remainder of the night. His rage had not completely dissipated, as it was never that easy. Because of what had happened, there was no longer a chance of eliminating the doubts and distractions that plagued their pairing. Bardock could only try his damndest not to let that affect his fate in this tournament.
As he stared into the distance, eyes alert for intruders, he wondered what it was about her that compelled him to care at all.