Day Four: Early Morning

[Burter]

Day Four
Midnight - 6:00 AM

"We've under half of the starting contestants and we're coming into Day Four, everybody! Congrats on making it so far, but we arn't done yet!

#41 SAM-13
#43 Gray Buu

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!

G9
I4
D7
E8

That's it! Good luck, all!

This is Karl, over and out!"


Notes:

-I'm going to sleep. Hence this up early. Don't post in here till midnight. Don't PM moves till midnight.

-I'd like a staff member to create the discussion thread and unsticky the last IC thread at midnight. Only a staffer.

-Good night.

[Retane]

The mercenary looked down as the darkness begasn to fade and allowed the traitorous moon show. He looked down at his ignorant victim, cocky a head as he glanced at him with his one good eye. It was quite weird how the body seemed to work, if you lost sight, hearing, your others senses instictively picked up the slack, refusing to allow their host to die. Retane's hearing and sight seemed to be heightened threefold due to his injuries and hidden paranoia

He studied the body carefully, it resembled the one known as Super Buu. The rogue had watched the replays of the show before and saw the figure, but this one looked different. Perhaps this was the great Super Buu that Mino had slain last year and he had done so now, cept he seemed weaker, and alot easier to kill. A simple snarl was followed by a heavy boot to the head. His simgle boot slammed through the dusty flesh only to hit something hard.

A bit confused, the namekian cocked his head and stared at the metalic skull that rested beneath his black boot. He removed his foot and bent down to collect the weird bone and brought it to his face. It seemed a bit larger then his own head an with slick thinking, the mercenary slipped the alloy over his own mesh of a skull. It was damned tere a perfect fit.

He looked around, his sight was not hindered by the skull helm, and neither was his good ear at hearing. He looked about, as he heard Karl come on again to mention his recent kill. He waited to here about Super Buu but in his stead heard Gray Buu. LOoking down again he noticed the ray brittle texture and understood that the two were not to same.

Sazuaa had been killed, but that wicked namekain kid still lived. A bit of silent respect and a small smirk crossed the distorted lips of the namekian. The kid was something else, almost like him, yet not as damned good.

The mercenary looked at the Scythe and with a simple gesture, slid it between three lines of the rope to hold the weapon snug yet comfortably around his back. TO look at him now, you would know that this clearly wasnt the same killer of the City of Trion. This wasnt the cold rogue that saw through all his missions. This wasn't the hitman of teh Horsemen. No. This was the savage created by the Abyss. The hell had gotten to him and it was as if reality had escaped him.

And it had! The Abyss had tooken the great killer and made things worst! They turned him into the bestial savage killer. And you could tell that now; Ripped pants no clothes on his abdomen, only burns and scars. One boot, a Nail gun with a Trigger Happy Finger, a broken wrist at the ready to defend himself with the activated Ki Sheild or toss a grenade if he needed.

The assassin walked over the dead Buu, passing his admantium body and kept on going, tossing another grenade behind him. The bones would be seperated and the pitiful flesh would be gone with the blast, leaving only questions as to what kind of beast could have done it. The asassin wasn't stupid. But perhaps he might pick a new strategy...

The namek also looked at his map and wondered why E-8 had been called a second time. Was there something amiss? Retane pondered the thoguht while prepping his next move.

[Reijin]

The clock rolled over to the fourth day of destruction, and a young dark haired warrior rolled over to stare into the eyes of a teal eyed young girl with cyan hair. His fingers reached up and touched the closing gash of his forehead, and he winced, still feeling the pain of it.

The two were laying in the grass with no fire, using nothing more than their own clothing as a set of blankets to keep them warm. Their bags were directly between the two of them, each with their arm looped through the straps to prevent any form of theft. They were in a fairly thick portion of woods so Reijin assumed that no one could find them.

Groaning a bit, Reijin rolled over onto his back a moment before pushing himself up into a sitting position, bracing his back against a tree before leaving it to hold him alone. His head rolled back to look at the girl, and saw that she was still looking at him, slipping her good arm from her pack to push herself up as well. Her other arm was held tightly by a poorly crafted sling made of small lengths of tied together vine. It didn't seem to be a very good binding for the arm, but she seemed determined to not wince as she sat up.

Reijin nodded his head at the arm and then spoke, his voice raspy from a lack of water. "What do you call that?" he coughed, reaching into his bag to pull out a bottle of water before taking a swig.

She looked down at the arm before shrugging her good arm. "It was the best I could do with what we had access to," she cautiously defended herself. "You've been out for a while now," she followed up accusingly.

He set his water down and leaned his head back to the tree, letting out a cooling breath as his eyes focused on the stars breaking through the treescape. "Yeah... Kinda feels that way," he acknowledged. "So what exactly happened?"

"Right after we started to discuss planning, you basically just lost your feet and fell over. I swear it was nothing to do with the doll," she added, laughing in thought to before. "I just figured that wound on your head had gotten to you and tried to change out your bandage."

Panicking, he reached up quickly and grabbed it. "What did you do with the other one?" he asked angrily, worried that he'd lost it.

She reached over and grabbed his arm with her good one, sliding in closer for the sake of positioning. "Quiet!" she hissed, looking around. "I don't know how many people might still be near our location. We've made pretty shitty time with you being out and all." She could tell from his sharp look that he didn't totally care. "Look, its the same bandage. I would have switched it, but I didn't have access to anything better. There was a small creek nearby that I rinsed it off in. I hope it doesn't get infected, but then its not like I'm doing much better."

Seeing her concern, he nodded once more, looking back at the sky. "Man..." he began, before realizing that he was about to get a little softer than his comfort zone would allow. Catching himself, he followed up on it. "We need to get you to a better set of wrappings to hold that arm with. My head is just a small slash; yours is a broken arm. I think," he added, not completely sure of himself without his Healing power.

"Heh..." she grunted, not totally buying his excuse, but knowing they were each as stubborn as Saiyans could get. "Well, I think there's a building nearby, according to this map. We've nearly reached it, so perhaps we can go through it and gather some supplies to hold these wounds a bit better with."

"Sounds good. When do we leave?"

"Um, in a few hours. While you've been snoring, and fuck if you don't snore loud, I've been dragging your ass for miles."

He was quiet for a few minutes, so long that she'd though he'd passed out again, before he finally spoke up again. "I've got to get you something," he sighed.

"Wha?" she asked, not quite following.

"For your birthday," he added.

"Um, no, you don't."

"Eat shit, you are getting something. Consider it an apology..." he finished, coughing again before taking another swallow of the long needed water. He looked over at her and cut her off at the beginning of her response, holding up the bottle to emphasize his point. "Next time you want to play doctor, at least water my throat with something to keep it moist."

"I could use that liquid inside your gun," she threatened, grinning as his face went a shade of white that was noticeable even in the dark.

"You wouldn't," he threw it at her, glancing to his bag and pulling it closer. She laughed, and let the comment go.

She pushed him over so that he lost his balance and fell to his side, watching him sit up again angrily. "Get some sleep. Or at least let me get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow if you are still awake. Oh, and stop apologizing for me watching over you. Ass." she added, rolling back over to her side to get to sleep.

That wasn't at all what I was apologizing for... He thought to himself. Looking back over at the younger girl, he sighed before laying back down, trying to fall asleep despite his rampaging mind. His mind had rested enough already, it seemed. I was apologizing for what I've taken from you. For what I created in your brother.

[Burter]

DANGER ZONE ACTIVE

"Sir," one of the soldiers said from his work station. He looked back at Karl Jak smoking a cigar. "Someone's gone into a danger zone."

Karl raised an eyebrow. "Eh? I guess it's about time."

"Should I...?"

"Yes."

#27 Retane DEAD

20 Remain

A-2 was a danger zone as of Day 2 Afternoon

The grenades, scythe, nail gun, and ki shield are all lost

Collar explosion = afterlife

[Yamu]

?All night we hunt and not even a TRACE of an enemy!? Jeice grumbled as he kicked a rock, shattering the stone into pebbles nonchalantly.

?Well, we are the only one of two to get a kill yesterday, so we are at least doing something right.? Yamu sighed, dropping onto a log as he crossed the names Karl had intoned off of his map. He dug into his bag and pulled out each of them a loaf of the bread they had scavenged off of SAM-13. ?Might as well finish this stuff off, it?s already going stale.?

Jeice gnawed a chunk off the crusty loaf but refused to sit, choosing instead to pace through the forest. The pair ate in silence until Yamu broke out the liquor that had followed them since Day Two. It was still dark out, and well before noon, but the veiny human was going to get this toast in while he still had somebody to celebrate with. ?To Day Four, Jeice.? Yamu swallowed a mouthful and then passed the bottle.

?To the Top Twenty!? Jeice grinned taking his own swallow. He made the traditional whiskey face as he passed the bottle back to Yamu, ?Shit, that stuff is strong.?

?Ever think you would make it this far, Red??

?Sticking with Red, huh?? The gloved fighter asked, finally taking a seat across from Yamu.

?I like it, don?t be surprised if it changes though. So, c?mon tell me, Ever think you would get this far??

Jeice leaned back on his pack, musing, ?When I first came?no. I honestly just wanted to see where I would measure up against the biggest and the badest of the galaxy. Then?? he pointed a finger like a gun at Yamu, ??I met you. I saw how you handled Minosha, and I knew I had hitched my cart to the right horse. Not that you haven?t made me second guess myself once or twice, but hey?I?m still here right??

?We?re both still here.? Yamu remembered the foolish choices that had eliminated him prematurely the previous year. ?I?m gonna go meditate for a bit, doesn?t look like we?ll see much action this early either. Mind taking a rest??

?No sweat, Yamu. I?ll be here when you get back.? The red skinned fighter leaned back in apparent relaxation, but his hand never left the trigger guard of his firearm.




The Arlian Guardian only walked enough paces to be out of sight, but well within earshot. If anything happened to either of them, the other could be there in a flash. He took a lotus position on a bed of soft pine needles and began regulating his breathing, setting Kari gently across his lap.

Without opening his eyes, Yamu opened the jar of Ki Sand and focused his energy on floating the cloud of enchanted dust out in front of him. He did not watch what he created, sculpture of this kind had to come from the soul, not the eyes. The veiny titan let his Ki craft the sand into what it needed to be.

When he heard an unmistakable rattle he opened his eyes, the sand had formed into a snake that now slithered back and forth but never moved. It hung in the air like an ornament, blowing in a breeze that did not exist.

Yamu could have picked the snake out of anywhere; it was a chameleon serpent, his Spirit Guide. One?s Guide was merely an expression of one?s own self conscious, the indefinable glimmer that was in touch with the multiple realms around you outside of reality. The Ki Sand had given the ebony eyed Earthling a chance to embody this facet of himself outside of a dream state. With it being craft from his own Ki his spirit could infuse into every grain.

?Brother, I?ve come to you for guidance.? The serpent?s eyes did not leave the bat on Yamu?s thighs ignoring the man altogether. ?How do I justify killing my friends? I can hope others will take care of them for me, but chances are in this game that I will have to-?

?I see you have chosen a Totem.? It interrupted as if Yamu had never been speaking.

Yamu?s eyebrows cocked in confusion. ?Yes. Atonement.? He replied, his eyes charred coals.

?Ahh?? The sound was odd considering the hiss that enveloped it, ?A powerful medicine Atonement, but one that can not last forever. Tell me, Snakeskin, do you aim for instant gratification instead of the permanent good??

?I came to ask you questions??

?You asked me for guidance not to ask me questions.?

?Yes?but??

The serpent almost seemed to smile through scaled lips, ?That is what I am giving.?

?How does that effect my question?? The Arlian Guardian blurted, already annoyed with the experiment. He lept up so he was upright on his knees, Kari almost rolling off onto the ground.

?You ask questions but dislike the answers. You avoid the inevitable paradox. You came to Dante as a way of washing the blood of Arlia off your hands, by giving them something back?something they might never have gotten without you. Will you wash away those old stains of innocents with the new blood of your former comrades??

Yamu fell back to sitting on his heels, the sand already breaking apart and swirling into his jar. He sighed?the serpent was right. There would always be blood on his hands?the choices he had made in life had already determined that. The Arlian Guardian had just never thought he would be left choosing which blood.

[Kami]

It was still dark out, giving the Namek a chance to move into the building. He cursed himself for leaving the safety of the lighthouse earlier, for now he was injured and his former partner out of the tournament. His back still ached and his walk was impaired, but he was able to move around. The tree branch turned walking cane clanked against the ground with a dead thud to accomany each step. Slowly the old doors of the school slide open and Kami slipped inside unnoticed.

His cane echoed through the lonely hallways as he made his way inside. This was probably going to be his bastion for the time being and he made sure to note the twist and turns of the hallways, not that the building would offer much protection from an angry and injuried Ultra Namek, but nonetheless, having a strategic advantage was vital at this stage.

The hallways were uninvititing, the walls had seen far too many years of neglect. A few holes in the ceiling opened up to another floor, starlight cast through the cracks. For the moment, he was alone again. The stairs presented no challenge greater than they normally would even with the limp. Eventually he found a room with an old couch, it appeared to be a lounge of some sort. He fumbled through the cabnets looking for anything useful but didn't see much of anything right away. An old broken out window framed the cold light whcih crept across the floor. He took a seat on the couch, still nursing the back injury. Hopefully time would give him an advantage, and the building some cover. He wasn't giving up just yet.

[Android 17]

Although he really had no reason to, the android had nevertheless backtracked to the small clearing and collected the effects he had left behind?medkit, bloodied shirt, and all the empty cans and bottles of supplies. With all of the junk secured within his survival bag, the machine-hybrid lifted the tote up onto his shoulder and hobbled his way back to where his old friend was waiting impatiently.

?What was that for?? Super Buu snorted, leaning heavily on his cane in order to support his crippled form.

?Uhh,? the cyborg mumbled, trying to think up a means to justify having randomly left his partner standing around for a few minutes. ?We don?t want to leave any breadcrumbs!? Seventeen finally decreed, punctuating his victory by thrusting a finger toward his weary companion. With a sigh, the puttalin-born construct shook his head and continuing their trek down the forest pathway.

After shifting the location of the bag onto his other shoulder, the android drew in a few lungful of air and lurched forward until he was alongside his former brother-in-arms. For a while, there was nothing but silence as the two wounded friends staggered and hobbled their way across the asymmetrical terrain of the island. When the twosome finally reached another clearing, Super Buu broke the stillness with an atypically somber interjection.

?The times are changing?aren?t they?? The puttalin golem inquired, glancing over at the bloodstained visage of his cybernetic companion as the two made their way to the apex of a relatively tall prominence.

?What do you mean?? Seventeen shot back?his eyes glued on the horizon as the first bands of crimson began to creep up from the ocean surrounding the island.

?Have you ever looked at your life and felt like the magic has left?? Although the remark could have easily come off as a pun based on the mystical origins of Super Buu, the expression on the golem?s face conveyed the seriousness of the statement. Noting the somber look on his old friend?s visage, the android let out a sigh and turned back to the horizon as he fumbled in his mind for a response.

?Yea,? the raven-haired warrior replied, his shoulders sagging slightly as the two stared at the red-violet sky. ?I?ve felt that way for months now, and I figured that taking this outing would help me get my mind of things.?

?Did it work?? Super Buu asked as the two took positions on the ground at the top of the hill.

?I have a hole though my abdomen,? Seventeen uttered nonchalantly. ?I?ve gone through my fair share of mutilations, amputations, and other horrid injuries, but for one reason or another, it just feels like this one ran deeper than all the rest. It?s like I was dreaming these last few months, but with a single punch, I was torn from my solace. Now that I?m waking up, the whole world is a cruel, painful blur. Anything and everything that was clear in my dream is now just jumbled and nonsensical, and unlike dreams, there?s no surreal escape for me from the hell into which I've fallen.?

[Raditzu]

"Great... Now I've gone completely insane!"

"Yeah, cause you were so sane to begin with."

More out of surprise than anything else, Rad dropped the stuffed doll he was holding and tried to get up. The gaping wound in his torso, however, made a strong argument for not moving. Much to Rad's surprise, the stuffed version of himself hopped up onto its feet and glared at him while dusting itself off. To see a small, cloth version of yourself glaring at you is definitely not something most people are prepared for.

"The hell's your problem?" the toy asked angrily.

"You even need to ask? I'm sitting here talking to a doll."

"Hey!" the stuffed Rad thrust his stubby arm at his larger counterpart. "I'm an action figure, got it?"

"Whatever... you're still talking."

"Well someone had to. You're pathetic. You get one little hole in you and you're barely able to walk around."

"One little hole?!" The saiyan pulled down the 'bandages' around his midsection. "This thing's bigger than you are!"

"Oh boo hoo. Go cry about it, why don't you."

At this point, Raditzu had to exert a great deal of self-restrain to keep from turning the small doll into a crater. It wasn't too surprising that the talking pile of cotton was able to get under his skin so easily, since it was most likely just Rad's new-found insanity playing games with him.

"Look, what do you want?" Rad returned his "action figure's" glare.

"You to stop moping around."

"Moping? I've been fighting to win this tournament. How is that moping?"

"Oh please. What was all of that 'remember the first person you killed' bullshit?" The doll asked, referring to an earlier conversation Raditzu had with Android 17. "That kind of crap isn't why people started making action figures, or posters, or sports drinks."

"Wait... I have a sports drink?!" A small rock bounced off Rad's forehead in response.

"Get over yourself and start giving these people what they want, you moron. Isn't that why you're here?"

It was quite irritating that a small stuffed animal had to point out something so obvious. Since he had arrived at the barracks, before the tournament even started, Rad hadn't had his head in the game. He had been distracted. He had made the decision to compete for further fame and fortune, and all that crap, but he had not truly committed himself to it. That kind of attitude was only going to get him in trouble -- as if a shotgun-size hole wasn't trouble enough.

"Tch... fine." Rad snatched up the doll and stuffed it back in his bag. With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself on to his feet. "Guess its time to really get this party started."

[Bardock]

His stride was smaller, and his pace a little slower, but Bardock refused to use a crutch. He still had his pride. At the very least, he had his sanity back. The sun was rising, and the fighter?s rest was over. He had allowed himself a few hours of rest, food, and defecation. Time to move, as the others would be rising from their slumber, and those who had chosen to forgo it altogether would already be on the prowl.

The saiyan checked his map, looking for a source of water. The temperature had already climbed to a peak, and the humidity was becoming daunting. Bardock sweat freely, reeking of the manly stench of four days without bathing. Squinting even behind his sunglasses, the brawler glanced at the blazing yellow star.

?Huh,? he chuckled. ?I think I just outlasted last year. Easy part?s over.?

His gaze settled on the horizon as he trekked the unbeaten path. Now all that was left was surviving against the nineteen other competitors that were still alive.

Bardock?s ears suddenly perked up.

Water.

He quickened his gait and found the source of the sound. A running river stretched out in either direction. The saiyan rushed to its bank and scooped a mouthful. It was cold and refreshing, whereas his bottled water had long since become warm and stagnant. Without further ado, he plunged his head in, sucking the liquid in freely while cooling down his perspiring brow. The roughneck pulled out and took the opportunity to change the bandages that swathed his head. They had become soiled with blood, sweat, and dirt. Since the wound had now sealed of its own accord, there was no further need for a waste of alcohol. After dumping and refilling his water bottles, he decided to take a full on swim downriver, as it was faster travel. He raised his bag and water-vulnerable items over his head and treaded down the stream.

The fast lane didn?t last long. The current picked up and Bardock decided it wouldn?t end well, so he kicked out early. His boots squished as he found himself a new route of pursuit.

Food rations are low, he thought grimly as he rearranged his items. He would need to re-supply before long.

Abruptly, Bardock froze in his tracks. In one swift, fluid motion, he grabbed his pistol and whirled around, armed and ready.

His target?

?The beast?? he glared, charging a shot. It was the squirrel, sitting on its haunches and glancing innocently at the saiya-jin. ?Tracking me, are you??

Before anyone could blink, Bardock fired off a bolt, and the ground where the squirrel stood charred and smoked. The fighter blew the vapor from the barrel of the pistol, twirled it, and holstered it.

?I still got it.?

With that, he turned and walked away. High up in a tree, the squirrel cocked its head and watched Bardock go.

[Android 17]

OOC: Direct follow-up to my last post

?When?s Paige due?? Super Buu interjected randomly?effectively preventing the android from launching the second phase of what could have easily swelled into a full-on tangent.

?A few days?? Seventeen responded, sighing as he reclined backwards onto the lush, dewy grass of the prominence. Up above the head of the raven-haired warrior, the stars were slowly fading as the night sky gave way to dawn. ?Fatherhood scares the hell out of me.? He added after a slight pause.

?Scared of what will happen to you?? Super Buu asked, lying down next to his old friend.

?No,? Seventeen replied, sighing as he became lost in the sea of fading stars.

?Then what?s got your panties in such a bunch?? The magical construct snorted.

?I?m scared of what will happen to my kid,? the android uttered, a frown spreading across his beleaguered countenance. ?People like you and I don?t really lead the nine-to-five lifestyle. Hell, our lives thus far have been built on murder, betrayal, and more murder. I want a better life for my son or daughter, and I honestly tried to put my old life behind me, Buu.?

?Yea, the Q-Wave Channel has been out of order for months now?? Super Buu muttered, staring in tandem with his old friend at the panorama of fading stars.

?But if this contest has taught me anything,? Seventeen said, vaulting off the ground and glancing over his shoulder down at his comrade. ?It?s that I?m addicted to this shit. I can?t get enough of the fighting, murdering, and genocide, Buu. I?I love what I am and what I do for a ?living?,? the android paused to stretch out his hands and tilt his head toward the heavens. ?Do you assholes out there hear that? I fucking love myself, and I love brutality and bloodshed!?

?What are you on?? Super Buu chortled, sitting up and turning his gaze up to his erratic, former leader. The puttalin-born golem arched his eyes?obviously confused by how haphazard the android?s attitude had become. At the beginning of the conversation, he had been morose and forlorn, but now, he was on the verge of kicking over a Monopoly table and punting a baby. Out of all the people he had encountered, the magical construct had never imagined the characteristically levelheaded Seventeen to lose his marbles.

?Life?? Seventeen replied, lowering his hands as he took in a short succession of deep, heavy breaths. The magical construct snorted at the blatant clich?, but the android ignored the guffaws of his bubble-gum colored ally. In reality, the machine-hybrid really had no idea how to explain the development in his mind. Whether Seventeen was filled with confidence or insanity was beyond his ability to perceive at this point. All he knew was that he felt powerful and capable?a feeling that was usually a rare thing for him to encounter.

A year ago, he would have been hiding in a ditch somewhere contemplating what to do with his life; however, this contest had helped him break through the barriers that had been erected for the last two years. This Dante?s Abyss had helped Seventeen to stand on his own two feet, and come hell and high water, he was never going to sit down?ever again.

[Burter]

Face to Face

Android 17, Super Buu

Koola, King Cold

The sun had long since been gone for the fourth time since the game began. They were more then half-way through with the week, and neither of the Cold men could be happier. It had been a rather uneventful few days.

"You think anyone's coming close to us?" Koola asked his father as he stood up, peeking out at the island from a large rock. "Can't see much in this dark."

"I'd be surprised if there arn't hunters out there," he said, "It's easier to hide in the dark. I'm getting a little bored, though."

"Sure you can take em with that hanging around?" Koola noted, nodding to his father's detached limb. "No pun intended."

Cold rolled his eyes. He'd been listening to those jokes for a good 24 hours now. "Keep your eyes peeled, alright? We're down to 21, maybe less since the last update."

This time it was Koola who rolled his eyes, grinning. "Alright, alright. Don't sweat it."

Trouble was closer then he thought, though. The changling's eyes picked up on a couple figures across the road, travelling in the thick brush. Super Buu was behind his friend, Seventeen, limping on a cane to support his crippled body.

"You're goin too fast," Buu accused.

You're goin too slow," came the response.

"Says the man with both legs," The pink puttalin snorted. "Gimme a break here." When Seventeen stopped, he had to add, "Metaphorically speaking."

The Android hadn't actually stopped to give Buu the 'break' he wanted to give. He detected a presense. "We got company."

"Oh, just great," Buu sighed, gripping his shotgun with his free hand. "Just what I need right about--URG!"

His sentence was cut short as a powerful electric jolt sprawled him sideways, ripping into his jelly flesh. Seventeen watched as his friend thudded off a tree and hit the ground motionless.

He then looked the other way to see a tall familar changling holding a shock rifle with one hand, his other literally danging by a couple threads. The Android's eyes lit up. This was it. A fight. A good, bloody fight.

Right after he delt with whoever was behind him. He raised his elbow, catching Koola in the jaw. He still took a hard shock to his back from the stun gun, but none-the-less rolled forward, squirming from the shots. The shock rifle fired again, missing as Seventeen crawled.

The cyborg grabbed the shotgun and stood up. He raised it up to an incoming Koola and without wasting any time, exploded the gun into the changing's body, ripping into his stomach and thigh. The younger Icer fell backwards, grunting.

Seventeen turned, grinning at the prospect of battling an elder Icer. King Cold's eyes lit up as he changed form. His anger was clear on his face. His body transformed on it's own. Horns disappeared. Body shortened a bit. He was smoother and with a paler skin.

"That's a neat trick," Seventeen complimented.

"I'm honored you think so," replied the sarcastic changling.

"So," the cybernetic warrior continued. "Who pulls their trigger first?"

"Me."

And so he did. Cold immediately lept forward in his new transformation, much stronger and faster then before. The shock rifle erupted, but Seventeen dodged it and kicked it aside. When he landed, he used the shotgun to butt Cold in the head, sending him forward.

King Cold turned just in time to see Seventeen had his shotgun at the ready. "Sorry," the cyborg said. "It's just business."

The Changling grinned. "You're right. And you're fired."

That was when Koola fired the discarded shock rifle from behind Seventeen, sparking into his open hole in his torso. The wires in him began to cause a vibration as he lost control of his machine body. The shotgun explosion, connecting Cold in the arm and causing it to disconnect, but it hardly hurt the Changling.

"You're late," Cold declared as Seventeen hit the ground.

"You're welcome," Koola grinned.

#39 Super Buu DEAD

19 Remain

King Cold's arm is gone. Insane injury

Koola's thigh has been shot to peices, and now he's the one with a limb barely hanging on. Major injury

Seventeen's minor injury is now major again. The shock rifle's exposure to his wires have resulted in a 'mental glitch.' In this case, it's hallucinations.

The changlings have stolen the shotgun. Pick who gets it. The Ki Sword is there for 17

King Cold has his 3rd and 4th transformations. He and 17 are tired for 24 hours OOC

[Jeice]

Jeice finally felt like he was carrying his own weight in the game, and not having to rely on the talents of his allies. Though being friends with Yamu definitely supported his chances of survival, he wanted to show he was able to do what was necessary. It was his first kill in the game so far, the first time it was him and only him who could be credited with another player?s death. The moment slowly played over in his mind. Raising the barrel of the gun to face the robot and his finger tightly hugging the trigger, the first round of bullet tearing through his opponents back revealing cut up wires and circuits.

His hand firmly grasped the handle of the gun, index finger treading the trigger waiting to pull back and fire off another round of ammunition. He tilted his head to face his companion. He was unsure if he would be able to kill Yamu if the time had come, he considered the human to be a friend to him and killing one of his friends wasn?t something he wanted to do, but if the time should come he didn?t know if he would. The only thing that brought the question to his mind was the fact that he didn?t know what Yamu would do in the situation. For all he knew the bald human would swing the nail covered bat into the back of his head, one less person to worry about.

But if they wanted to get further in the game they would have to rely on each other, trust each other with their lives. Any doubt whatsoever could quickly lead to an unwanted death. The last thing Jeice wanted was to be running around the island alone while everyone else wanted to kill him. Having someone that would look out for him was somewhat reassuring, even if it was only for the time being. His head tilted back and gently knocked into the trunk of a tree, he let out a brief sigh before returning to his feet. He slowly walked over to his motionless friend, who had still been meditating as these thoughts of betrayal and death circled Jeice?s mind.

He figured it was time to move. The white haired warrior was eager for another fight, eager to pull the trigger on the next unsuspecting son of a bitch and eliminate them from the game, and the only way to do that would be to hunt for their next victim. But who could it be?

[Jinpo]

Three days. Three long, strenuous, exhausting days and the competition was only half over. The field seemed to be thinning out at nearly the same rate. The Namekian child had outlived more than twenty other fighters to get to this point, and he?d be damned if he would die now. The vivacious moon sat at the apex of its trajectory, lighting up the night as bright as any day. The pale white light shone through the leaves of the trees surrounding Cargo, leading him onward down the forest pathway.

Grrrrrrrr

The loud grumble could have easily been mistaken for a wild animal, if it had not originated from deep inside Cargo?s stomach. The hunger had appeared out of nowhere and hit the teenager like a freight train. Cargo doubled over and crossed his arms across his abdomen, seemingly trying to force the starvation back into the depths of his body. Unfortunately for him, he wasn?t that strong. It was on to Plan B: his remaining rations. The emerald-skinned adolescent unzipped the bag at ludicrous speed and rummaged through his contents. Regrettably, he had only set himself up for more disappointment.

?A can of creamed corn and half a piece of bread. Great . . . I knew I shouldn?t have wasted the majority of my bread on that incredibly delicious Spam sandwich.?

Grrrrrrrr

?Shit.? Hunting for the Namekian mercenary would have to wait. Gathering food instantly jumped over all other priorities on Cargo?s to-do-list. Every one of the child?s senses called to the need. The dissonant pounding of the emptiness, the crying of Cargo?s stomach, caused him more pain and anguish than any ki pistol or nail gun could. The famine teased and prodded at him to find something, anything, to satiate it. And it was very strong. The youngster quickly downed what remained of his food.

Grrrrrrrr

?What the hell!? Cargo cried as he frantically looked around for more food, similar to a pothead with the munchies. Glancing upwards, the jade-toned battler found his prize. ?Jackpot!?

A shiny red apple hung from a tree branch directly above the Namekian?s head, taunting him. Without hesitation, Cargo moved toward the trunk and began to rapidly ascend the barrier which stood between him and indulgence.

?You?re mine.? the teen exclaimed as he shimmied along his ?branch of destiny?. Cargo reached out, with his short arms, for his trophy. Only inches away, he could taste the crunchy apple. He would savor every last bite. However, the kid should have known: nothing was easy in Dante?s Abyss. Zooming in from an adjacent tree, a chipmunk leapt over to the occupied limb and snatched Cargo?s brass ring away from him.

?Damn it!? he shouted, shaking the tree to its roots. ?Get your ass back here!? Cargo followed the chipmunk as he jumped off of the branch. Landing painfully on his already injured feet, Cargo bounded after the thief as it tore down the jungle road.

?This must literally my Apple of Discord.? he mused as he chased the chipmunk. The mammal bandit whizzed out of the forest into a clearing, but the kid was gaining on it. Food was a great motivator. As Cargo closed in on his target, he dug around in his pocket before fishing out the bloody grocery bag he had taken from Pikkon. It was on.

?Got you!? the Namekian roared as he dove, in a last ditch effort, to trap the robber. The plastic bag landed on top of the chipmunk, ensnaring it. Nimbly, Cargo rolled through his all-out dive, scooping up his catch in the process. Without thought, he tied the bag tightly, depriving the animal of something more important than food: air. It was only a matter of time now. The kid sighed, as he observed his new surroundings.

?How fitting.? Cargo said, smirking. He was surrounded by tombstones. The chipmunk had led him to the cemetery. Refocusing on his catch, the creature was on its last legs. The Alvin-like squeaking stopped and the scurrying of its tiny feet slowed . . .

Its eyes glazed over and it slowly rolled to its back . . .

Its chest ceased to rise and fall . . .

Cargo could add one more to his kill count.

?Finally.? Cargo declared as he untied the bag and claimed what was rightfully his. He wasted no time sitting on the closest headstone and sinking his teeth into the fruit.

?Oh my god, this apple is orgasmic!?

[OldSpice]

The emerald brush magnified as Spice paved his way through the trees and other various plant matter; hacking away at stems, both thick and slender alike. A sticky layer of perspiration began to accumulate over his forehead, but was quickly wiped away. The Makyo-jin hated to sweat; it made him feel gross and uncomfortable, like a petty groundling at the globe theatre, so ragged and groggy. Nevertheless, he continued his course, and before long he found himself standing upon the peak of a hilltop; alone.

Plopping down on his rear, Spice rested his chin onto an open palm, releasing a sigh of boredom. Looking down at his watch, the number fifty eight shifted to fifty nine, as it was now one minute until midnight; the moment of truth. According to the trader, a beast would supposedly appear from the black mist at twelve o? clock. His pointy ear twitched at the irritating sound of buzzing nearby.

Smack!

?Damn mosquitos? the makyo grumbled as he wiped the multi-colored ooze from his cheek, along with the flattened carcass of a bug. His watch suddenly beeped, forcing him to his feet with haste. An eerie silence overcame the area as a shroud of darkness began to emerge. A heart-wrenching howl nearly threw the cyan soldier off of his feet, but his qualm was soon replaced with anticipation. A vicious snarl grew louder as the dark mist slowly dispersed, revealing a pair of glowing red eyes within the empty veil.

A mammoth of a creature sprung forth from the darkness, as if summoned by an unholy force. The beast was covered in a coat of spiny brown fur and an abnormally large set of sharp, bloody, decaying teeth. It prepared to pounce, digging its six inch claws into the soil and convulsing a tree trunk of a tail with rapid succession.

Oddly enough, Spice remained calm and tranquil. You could even say he was excited, considering a grin now adorned his usually stern expression. His left hand balled into a fist and his feet dug into the ground as he slid into position, crouching down to initiate a newly forged fighting stance; unlike anything he has shown before.

?I, Ginseng, shall cast you back into the river of evil with which you were spawned??