Day Three: Evening

[Burter Jr]

Day Three
6:00 PM - Midnight

"The sun's going down, warriors! With it, another person dead.

#28 Selipa

With her death, that means the 12 hour clock resets. You've got some more time to relax. Not too much though, eh?

We'll be replacing your maps again, for simplicity. More danger zones!

Good luck, everyone! We're coming into the final stages, with only a few groups left! Fifteen players in total remaining!

A lot of death and gore has pained everybody, I'm sure. But it's not over yet. Fourteen of you are going to die before this is over."



Click Here for the Updated Map

[Violet]

The sun was beginning to set in the distance, a bright red ball swimming in a crimson lake. Stars had already begun to spring through the light film of clouds, beaming brightly. Creatures of the night began to wail their evening song in the wilderness air.

Her chilled skin shivered, but it wasn?t from the cold; it was something far from just a simple wind. She?d never seen her two companions so solemn (nor as irritated) as they were now. Its like someone kicked their ?Dickhead? complex from big to super dick, and it was beginning to scare her.

?You know,? the majin continued, ?I never joined this competition to play babysitter for anyone else. I?m only doing this because I know there are stronger fighters out there, undoubtedly banding together for protection.? He hissed. ?So I?m forced into this scenario. Just know that, as soon as I can, I will get out of it.? His head shot up to the bright, blue sky, seeing something that no one else could.

?Soon, you will all know my wrath.?

She wouldn?t tell them anyways that she feared them. Nope, not in a million years; neither would the Buus admit their own apprehensiveness. She noticed everything; a fool did not walk in these boots.

The taller majin?s sack shifted on his back, the smaller, Kid, sat inside, grumbling something to himself. A shuffling of papers could be heard right under his voice, and a gasp.

?What the hell are you doing back there?? Supes griped, turning his head slightly to see.

Another gasp, and a pair of red circles peeked up over the hem of the bag, wide and glossy. A hand quickly followed, magazine in tow, and shoved it in the bigger?s face. Supes took it, eyes quickly scanning over the page, and clicked his tongue.

?Why are you looking at this nonsense?? he stammered, and began rolling the mag up. Kibbs retook it and sunk back into the bag. Violet gave no more than a confused shrug and they resumed their walk.

It only took a few minutes before low chuckles could be heard from within the canvas sack, an obscene ?wooo? punctuating between giggles as they continued across the grassy field.

Finally, Vi had enough. ?Kibbs! Are you looking at that fucking magazine?!?

More chuckles.

?You know, a few minutes of you two shutting the fuck up would be nice.? Super growled at them.

?Excuse the hell out of me.? Violet snorted back defiantly. He was their babysitter, as he so caustically called it; he didn?t need their squabbling.

Fine. He don?t want me around, I guess I should oblige him. She?d just scout ahead and keep watch, cause Kami knows, she didn?t want another fucking ambush.

Her boots shuffled quicker, soon overtaking the majin, and then bounded into a full out run. He didn?t question her, all he did was watch.

?Humans.? He grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes.

[Super Buu]

OOC: I?m just going to pretend that last post was a perverted fantasy of Violet?s and didn?t actually happen =/


The bizarre-looking trio carried onward, each wearing a grim expression upon their faces. This competition was coming to a close, and they all knew it. Fourteen of you are going to die before this is over. That?s what Karl had said. That meant, at the very least, that two of the group were going to die.

More importantly, though, who was to be the survivor?

Super was determined, against all odds, to make it himself. He would do anything in his power to make it happen. Except treachery. He?d made a promise, and he wouldn?t sacrifice his pride, not even for his life. If it came down to it, he?d fight his allies. But it would be in true battle, not the way Goku Junior or Seventeen had died. If Buu had to die, he wanted to die with honour.

But that?s not going to happen, he thought, his puttalin-imitated face muscles twitching unnoticeably. Where others die, I live. I am a true immortal. I cannot be killed.

His deluded thoughts went unnoticed by the others. They must have noticed something wrong, though - ever since he?d heard of the Konat?s survival, he?d been acting different. His pride had been compromised, he?d let a traitor go unpunished. The one who had killed Seventeen ?

He put it out of his mind, for now. Minoshia?s time would come.

?Gragh!? he exclaimed suddenly, fingers hooking around the pores on his head. ?I want to fly! This is so ? slow!? Not only that, but he wanted to vent some energy. He sufficed by blowing steam from his chest.

?I can understand where you?re coming from,? said Violet, turning to him with a begrudging look, ?but it?s not that bad. You get to appreciate the surroundings more from down here. It?s not such a rush all the time.?

?You don?t understand!? snapped Buu, staring up at the clear sky. ?I was born able to fly, it?s in my nature. Having it taken away for me is like you having your legs cut off.?

?Stop complaining,? stated the woman dryly. ?At least you can still walk.? She hooked a thumb towards the mini-me in Buu?s backpack. Kid snarled in agreement.

?Fuck you,? Super retorted, with all the cognitive athleticism of a dead armadillo. He placed his bag on the ground and slumped down on a nearby patch of grass. ?I?m going to sleep. You can keep watch.?

?Me?!? Violet burst out, eyebrows arched downward. ?Why does it have to be me??

?Because Kid here seems to have lost the ability to speak, and if I stay on watch without getting some sleep first, I?m liable to kill someone.? He directed a glare at the girl?s direction. ?And you?re someone.? Without another word, he lay back, arms crossed behind his head.

Violet sighed, leaning her back against a nearby tree. Perhaps in the morning her friend?s anger would have diffused ? fat chance.

[Reijin]

"Just fifteen left, eh?" Reijin thought aloud, glancing at his own map. He'd been very careful about marking off the danger zones, but despite his calm, he was pretty pissed at how the tables had suddenly been twisted on him by completely changing everything. He knew that organization was key to this tournament, but the homosexual in charge, Karl, seemed to find it amusing to just fuck everything up on them in hopes that someone would stumble.

Reijin smiled to himself, wishing he'd thought of it first. Fruit or not, the man was a genius. He'd placed everyone onto an island of death, on the planet of Dante no less, with the goal being to all kill each other. He even wanted alliances to turn on each other, and to leave loved ones to murder each other in cold blood so that they could walk out trying to face what they've done and still feeling like a winner. All just to allow him some sadistic masturbatory pleasure?

The man was a genius. There was no other word for that. Reijin's smile faded. "The greatest of geniuses always think themselves into a loop... Assuming that the other will know what they know, and thus arguing themselves to death."

He had been walking around in a circle, where he'd instructed everyone to gather all of their belongings into one big pile. Reijin no longer cared about the mine and yours of these posessions. For the moment, these people had become his team. His objective had taken a slight deterance. He still wished to win, but these people were a requirement to help achieve that goal, and he had no reason for them to die by tripping over their weapons and impaling themselves.

"Saiba!" he called, using the shorthand name that the creature had given itself. He'd slowly been attracting a small bond to the creature, as it did do anything he wanted, given enough of a struggle. Its impish head immediately popped out of a duffle bag and it hopped out, running over to the Saiyan's side. He gave it an awkward glance, and then motioned a gloved hand at the others in the group. "Gather everyone over here," he commanded. The little creature looked at the others and then stuck out its tongue, making a fist motion with its claws. Reijin chuckled a bit. "Maybe later. For now, we need them," he answered, amused at the least.

It ran off towards the others as Kami strummed his guitar in some nameless melody. Reijin couldn't help but think about who was left in the tournament. The reasons why they were there. He couldn't understand it. Some of the warriors that had enlisted were pathetic, unable to kill their own brothers or loved ones even with the knowledge that they wouldn't really die. These people were too afraid of moral complications to allow them to achieve the goal that they had set forth. Giving a look at his team, he was determined that this group would not be one of them.

Trunks and Vejita had been spending a lot of time conversing lately, catching up on old times. Reijin had no idea as to what they were discussing, but he was sure he'd find out later. The halfbreed really did not concern him for the moment. The group was finally gathered, and as they approached, eyeing the green creature warily, Reijin motioned for them to hurry.

"These are all you guys have?" he spat, pointing at the bags. "That's pathetic. There are no rations left between all of those bags," he sighed. It'd have to do. Shaking his head with acceptance, he entered these factors into his newest strategy. "Something that I was taught when I was younger... Battles are won not off of brute strength, but strategy." Reijin looked to Vejita for a moment and gave him a rather sarcastic silencing statement before the King could argue. "Yes, it contradicts the Saiyan style, but only by accepting one's own weaknesses can you ever hope to grow stronger. Anyway, tactics are the integral factor in which war is made. If you do not enter the fight with some form of plan, you will not win." He punched his fist with every word, punctuating each for boldness.

"The strategy is simple. We've eaten pig and other animals over our stay here. When we attack them, our goal is to corner them or intercept their running pattern. We didn't just run around after them aimlessly hoping to tire them out. Only Trunks," he grinned, knowing that the kid would appreciate it in his own way. Probably in a very emo way. "Thus we live, the animal is dead."

Vejita finally exploded at the rambling, as he had already heard most of it before. "Get on with it! By the time you finish all of this mindless prattle, we'll have to gut you just to make it past the deadline!" Reijin chuckled quite heartilly at this one, having it lead into his next topic.

Raising a finger to silence Vejita, he spoke. "To be serious, that's something I need to bring up. While you are fighting, ask yourself something... Will you kill your own brother?" He pointed at Trunks. "Trunks, will you kill Bra? You've already attacked your own father." Vejita turned red at this statement, hoping to extinguish the event from his memories, and Trunks began to sputter in defence. "Of course you wouldn't. I assume Vejita is different because you knew that he was your father and would probably survive somehow..." he trailed off. "But your little sister is different, isn't she?"

The lavendar haired adolescentt growled angrily at Reijin's daring to have touched such a subject. "What the hell does this have to do with anything?"

Reijin nearly cut him off with his answer. "Because she is with Raditzu and 18. She didn't want to side with you. She didn't want to side with me. She didn't want to side with Vejita. She chose to group with them."

Immediately arguing erupted over the subject, mostly in defiance of how Reijin could just assume such a thing, but his Saibaman had circled behind the group, positioning himself so that he could suddenly slap them both in the back of the head and duck back into the bushes before he was found. Reijin continued. "Of course, I could be wrong, right? She could somehow be out there by herself, attempting to survive, couldn't she?" He glanced at Kami. "When you had the GPS in your group, did you notice anything unusual about groups?"

**Part One**

[Reijin]

"No. There was one smaller group of two, but we had no clue who they were," the elder Namekian answered solemnly, understanding where the Saiyan was going with this.

The dark haired youth nodded. "So lets use our heads here. She's either in the small group fending for herself with one other person... Nah, that's not like her, is it? I think she'd go to where there are more people around. She's very impulsive," he observed.

"You are treading rough waters, Reijin," his King warned him. He was not appreciating the topic in the least.

Reijin gave him a simple look. "Shut up and listen. So by impulse, she would be attracted to larger groups, where there are more people that she knows. She would want to surround herself in familiarity. She didn't choose us. I doubt she chose Civil Unrest. Oh..." He suddenly tapped his Scouter that he'd recieved when he entered this event. "Trunks, you seem to know alot about computers and machinery. Tell me, did you know that these things update the groups in real time? There's an entire section of records on each combatant and everything." He could tell by Trunks's expression that he hadn't actually looked at it. "Its not always up to date, but Bra has been with them since nearly the moment we were put here."

Changing up his topic, he shook his head. "No, do you think that Rad and 18 delude themselves with thoughts that they will not have to kill one or the other when this is all done? What about the other couples on this island? You secretly hope the other will fall during the struggle, because in the end, none of you want to have to be the one to pull the trigger. You do not want to see their loving and trusting eyes looking fondly into your own... As. You. Pull. The. Trigger."

Each word seemed to echo off of the trees around them, pounding in the effect. What exactly was Reijin's point? He could tell from Kami's cool and thoughtful expression that the Namekian had already come here knowing this. He nodded at the elder and recieved a nod in return. He was indeed experienced. The android seemed completely placid, unreadable as far as his expression was concerned. But Reijin could safely assume that the words had reached his CPU by now.

Trunks seemed a bit emotional. Reijin's words seemed to have actualy broken through his facade a bit, into the core of his tough guy routine. Vejita seemed uneasy, in a struggle between protecting his family and... He didn't know. Reijin walked over toward the group, and squatted down, giving them all a look directly into their eyes. "Do not think that I will not kill each and every one of you if the situation requires it before the end of this trial. If anything stands in my way, I will remove it. Don't think that I am the only one that feels this way either. The Namekian gets it. The android gets it. You, Trunks, wanted to get it. You attacked your father. He almost gets it."

Reijin turned to walk back to the bags, and he heard a rustle behind him as everyone stood, angered and possibly wishing to lash out. "I'm telling you what you need to hear," he called over his shoulder. "I will not go into battle with soft children. I have to know that I can rely on you when my back is turned to make sure bullets do not enter it," he chuckled, commenting on Kami and Trunks' similar wounds.

"Here is how I sorted our gear. Each of you grab one set, because you all have a role to play. We'll be a lot more ready now. Especially when assassins come for us in the form of our loved ones," he spoke, his voice lowering on the note. He grabbed a bag and threw it over his shoulder. "Let's go."

"Where's my ring?" he heard from behind him.

"I have it. I think I'll be able to use it more effectively," he informed him. He heard a loud crack from behind him that he immediately dismissed, moments before Saiba appeared beside him trying to stay close for protection.

[Raditzu]

Boy things certainly were getting interesting, weren?t they? The numbers were thinning and the stakes were rising. Every time they heard the irritating squeal of Karl the danger zones closed in on them and he had news of more death. Not that Raditzu particularly cared. Oh look, someone else he would never meet just got whacked. Awesome. Unlike Bardock, he felt little remorse for the ?death? of his family members. In the end, this was a game and they couldn?t play by the rules. Simple enough concept to follow, even for someone who had devoted their life to less-than-academic pursuits.

The restlessness within the group was practically palpable. Either people were blowing gaskets like Bardock was, or they were retreating into their own little worlds of self-pity. Or whatever they wanted to call it. Rad called it boring. Not the lack of fighting, mind you, (the long-haired wonder had experienced enough fighting to keep even his pure saiyan blood satisfied for a while) but because of the lack of interaction. The random conversations he managed to strike up with Eighteen were? dangerous at best. The saiyan had become increasingly sub-par at gauging her mood and she was the friendliest one out there. Bra kindly told Raditzu where he could put his conversation and Bardock seemed to prefer a good, old fashioned, fatherly glare to any actual spoken words. Something needed to be done. And Rad decided to do it.

?Hey, guys! Get over here!!? Rad stood in the middle of their current camp and looked around to his teammates. ?Seriously! Come here!? With a violent wave, the saiya-jin made perfectly clear what he meant.

?What the hell do you want?? Bra was less than chipper.

?Ha! Funny you should ask.? Rad turned his head towards Bardock, who was the last to arrive. ?Ah. We?re all here. Good.?

?What is it?? Bardock spit. He was eager to get back to his brooding, it seemed.

?I just thought we could do something to lighten the mood.?

?Not more of your stupid volleyball game, Rad.,? 18 said as she crossed her arms.

?Heh? I think you guys will like this game a lot more.?

A devilish creeped across the saiyan?s face. His muscles tensed and his body visibly shifted. Raditzu waited just long enough for everyone to figure out what he was about to do. They all opened their mouths to say something, but they didn?t have time. Bra was the first to catch it. A powerful blow tossed her to the ground before Rad shot to 18 and threw her into his father. With all the grace that Rad had expected, Eighteen rolled off of Bardock as they hit the ground and rebounded back to her feet almost immediately. Her expression was something between a glare and a smirk. Rad was most definitely grinning.

?You could have at least given me a heads up,? 18 complained, dusting herself off.

?I?m sorry, hun.? Rad leaned back, letting a bolt of ki whiz by him. ?How can I make it up to you?? The saiyan snapped his fingers. ?I got it! I won?t make you beat the shit out of me.? His grin widened.

?Always the gentleman,? the androidess rolled her eyes.

[Burter Jr]

Face to Face

Android 18, Bardock, Bra, and Raditzu

"Love you too, babe." Raditzu winked at his girlfriend after her sarcastic remark.

The slightly romantic exchange was interupted by a feminine foot slamming into the center of Raditzu's back, causing his spine to shoot an unpleasent feeling pain into his body. He fell forward, literally sliding on the ground. "Asshole." Came the familiar voice of Bra, who landed on the ground after the kick.

Raditzu put one knee up and then pushed back on it. He literally spun in mid-air, foot whirling with him, "Ha!" Bra backed up just as the foot came close, causing him to land right in front of her. "What do you say we really heat this tournament up?"

He was met with a fist in the nose, which caused him to stumble back. "Could have asked first, asshole," Was the response.

Meanwhile, Bardock was just getting up from being thrown back. He was still tired, and still had some of the bruises on his face from his bout with Selipa. Before he could attack his son in retatliation, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he spun around, a metallic hand cracked him in the jaw.

Unlike Bra, Bardock just shrugged it off and grinned. Despite being tired, he was starting to feel a little better. "About time things started to come around." The saiyan welcomed a good fight, especially when both sides mutually agreed to it.

Eighteen brought a fist forward, which smacked into Bardock's palm, who kicked her in the side. She moved to the side after taking it, and brought both fists up. In reatliation, Bardock blasted a ki shot, which hit 18's. The two recoiled each other, causing them both to fall back.

Meanwhile, Raditzu playfully lept backwards after avoiding a punch from Bra. He landed in between his two weapons and picked them both up with a cheesy grin. He held the chainsaw in one hand, his nail gun gripped in the other. The man looked like some kind of ghetto Terminator, with long hair.

"Heh," Bra grunted. She bent down, preparing to move.

Raditzu lept forward, nail gun pointed forward. "Tag!" He shouted as he pulled the trigger. "You're IT!"

Bra jumped into the air, both hands clinging onto a branch. She felt her left foot open up as one of the huge, sharp objects slammed into it and broke it apart. "Shit!" She cursed, dropping from the branch.

The saiyan halfling spun to avoid the chainsaw, and landed right on Raditzu, causing them to both drop. She pressed her knee into his crotch, brought her fist up, and then down onto his face.

Everything halted, except the chainsaw. It pushed in the front side of her skinny frame, and then out the other. Blood spat from her mouth, tears welting in her eyes. "Damn you..." She whispered. Raditzu wasn't smiling, instead just pushing her to the side.

"Sorry, kid," Rad told her.

"Fuck..." She coughed again, interupting herself. "You..."

As the girl died, two shotguns faced off with each other. Bardock held his with one hand, while 18 held it with two in order to aim better. Whoever shot first, and best, would survive.

"You ready?" Bardock asked, finger on the trigger.

"Are you?" Came the response.

Raditzu watched as both shots fired. Both warriors flew back from recoil. 18 slid back, stopping on her heels. Bardock hit the ground, the lower left portion of his torso obliterated.

The Android looked from the male saiyan to the female one, laying dead. Rad had threw the chainsaw to the side. "She dead?" Eighteen asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Yea," Rad moved into a fighting pose. "Let's keep this party rockin, eh?"

Eighteen let out a smile. She ran forward towards her boyfriend, shotgun in hand. Rad braced himself. Time for a real fight.

Another shotgun blast rang through the night. Eighteen's chest opened up in a churray of metal and blood. She landed against Rad, who held her up. It had happened so quick. "Babe? Babe?!" He looked at her, almost panicking. "Eighteen?"

He looked up from where he saw the shot. Bardock was laying on the ground, pistol pointed up, the shotgun he just fired on the ground. The elder saiyan pulled the trigger. This time, Rad took a hard pistol shot in the neck, causing a painful crackling sound to occur. He fell back, hard.

The playful mood was gone. Just the stench of death littered the night.

Raditzu looked over as he put a hand on his wound. He opened his mouth to say her name before her life faded, but he couldn't. For the first time in a long time, Raditzu was helpless.

#23 Bra DEAD
#15 Android 18 DEAD

13 Fighters Remaining

Bardock has a huge shotgun blast in his stomach. Major injury

Raditzu's collar bone has been dis-located. He's lost his voice. Minor injury

The Ki Shotgun, Teddy Bear and Flamethrower are there. If either takes the flamethrower, they have to discard one weapon. If Rad takes the shotgun, he has to discard one item.

[Orion]

Reijin, again, was being an arsehole. Trunks had no problem keeping the non aggression treaty with the heartless saiyan for the time being; he could even contain his anger. Yet, that didn't stop the halfling from thinking what he truly thought. His arrogance was laced within every word that came from his forked tongue. He did know how to get his message across, although obviously apathetic about how it was received.

Trunks did lose his hold upon his emotions, albeit only slightly, when Reijin spoke of his sister. It seemed she was joined with the stronger group that their fragile alliance was most concerned about. Reijin's thoughtless probing of the subject that they may have to face her caused the halfbreed prince to snarl under his breath.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Trunks shot back, although quite aware of what Reijin implied.

"Because she is with Raditzu and 18. She didn't want to side with you. She didn't want to side with me. She didn't want to side with Vejita. She chose to group with them."

Trunks expected such an answer. Maybe Trunks' anger came from the obvious fact that he didn't want to face such a scenario. It was by no means out of the realm of possibilities, but still very unwanted. To murder his sister to preserve his own, and in this tournament... if Trunks could leave the subject by itself, at least at the more conscious reasoning, he would be all right.

"Of course, I could be wrong, right? She could somehow be out there by herself, attempting to survive, couldn't she?" He paused, looking at the elder Namekian. "When you had the GPS in your group, did you notice anything unusual about groups?"

The conversation continued. Trunks listened in to what Reijin had to say, and contributed where neccessary. It seemed the full blooded saiyan was grinding on everyone's nerves, but there was some truth to what he said.

"Ahhh!" Trunks moaned, dropping to the ground. His face was scrunched up in pain, his eyes tightly shut. Instantly, the entire alliance readied themselves for an ambush. Guns were raised, fists were clenched, eyes were peeled, but no one emerged. They waited longer. Still, no one appeared. Everyone in the group looked at the halfling, trying to see what could've possibly set off his tortured response. From the outside, Trunks appeared fine. There was no aesthetic change to him whatsoever.

"Trunks," Vegeta stated, getting down on his knee by his son, "what's wrong?"

"Ahh!" the halfling said painfully. "I... I don't ... know!"

"What's the matter? Where is it hurting?" Kami asked.

"It's... it's everywhere..." Trunks murmured. His voice grew less laboured, and his eyes, although still closed, were no longer tight. A deep breath filled his lungs, and he let it out slowly.

"Well, it seems you're all ri--"

"AHHH!" Kami was cut off mid sentence by another agonising scream from Trunks. This time, his remaining Potarra earring emitted a bright white light. It was far more potent than the normal glimmering that accompanied his Super Saiyan transformation. Staring at the piercing spark was painful to the eyes.

"Dammit, what's wrong with him?" Vegeta asked vainly, taking a step back.

"I don't know," Kami responded. "I've never seen anything like this."

Reijin gave the saiyan prince an unimpressed gaze. "He'll be all right in a minute."

Surprisingly, as soon as Reijin finished his statement, the burning glow from Trunks' singular Potarra earring faded away. Trunks opened his eyes, feeling the pain dissipate from his being. He sat up, taking in a deep breath and rubbing his temples with his index and middle fingers.

"What the hell was that?" Trunks asked to nobody. "That was so painful."

"How are you feeling now?" Thirteen enquired.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," Trunks responded absent mindedly. "But still, what ... was that?"

[Violet]

The tree was hard and uncomfortable even through the leather of her suit. She shifted restlessly, but always kept her eyes focused, looking for any sign of movement.

They didn?t keep a campfire that night; it wasn?t that cold. Besides, it would be just as bad as pitching a fifty foot neon sign on the ground and shouting ?Come and get us!!?. Strategy? What strategy?

She sighed hard, once again, for the umpteenth time since the sun went down. The moon filtered through the canopy of trees, lending the only light to the camp. Stars twinkled in the black blanket of sky, the only sentinels watching over her now.

Her eyes lowered to the majins? sleeping faces. Ironic how peaceful and innocent they looked when they aren?t up griping about. Of course, she understood why they were in the mood they were in. She should feel the same, but something in her heart numbed her from feeling anything. Maybe it was the prospect of seeing their fallen clansmen after this whole fucking game was over; or maybe she finally gave in to that old steeliness from long ago, the one where she could look in the face of an innocent child and blow their brains clear across town without batting an eye.

That had to be it, either that or a combination of the two. Vi knew she wouldn?t be able to kill these two, she was in far too deep to murder them. Unless provoked, she?d put her life in danger if to keep them safe. It was an unspoken promise she made to herself when she set foot on the mansion property.

Her stomach began its incessant rumbling again, and she knew she couldn?t ignore it any longer. Rising to her feet, she dusted the leaves and twigs from her rear, and fled into the forest.

She had somehow managed to bag a few rabbits, carrying them by their bound feet back to camp. All preparations were done in near darkness, and after creating a small fire, she cooked her kill, the aroma of smoking meat making her stomach spasm furiously.

?Wake up, boys. Food.? She nudged them with her boot, but they lay still like corpses. ?Wake up?? She kicked Supes again, with a little more force. Nothing.

?Kibbles?? She bent down to shake his shoulder gently. ?Kibbs??

An arm shot out and gripped her throat, and then, the glow of two red circles filled her vision.

[Banned Dana]

Reijin had broke it down for Trunks. He had no choice, this game was all about the ?kill or be killed? and it would seem that the Sayajin Prince wasn?t completely on the bandwagon, or at least that?s how it came off. Thirteen was no master of psychology, so he could be wrong, and something inside of him was telling that Trunks, if given the opportunity, would kill even his own siblings to survive, not a completely heartless deal, after all, this was only a game.

Suddenly, the boy began to glow bright yellow, something was happening to him. Keeping his eyes firmly glued on the screaming Sayajin, Thirteen wondered what kind of event this was. He had never before witness anything that looked so painful in his life, or at least he couldn?t remember any at this point in time. Shouting and screaming about, the glowing faded and the Prince returned to normal, everyone seemed confused and worried about him, everyone except for Reijin, who seemed to think it was something natural.

?Perhaps we should stop for a moment and rest.? suggested the android, noting how winded Trunks was.

?No.? Reijin objected. ?We need no more rest, we are all fully rested and ready to go. We move, now.?

Thirteen made to argue his point, but Trunks held his hand up, stopping the droid before he could mutter a single word.

?He?s right, we must keep moving.? Trunks then smiled. ?Thanks though.?

He had obviously known why the machine-hybrid had wanted to rest, but Trunks felt good enough to walk. The pain had subsided substantially and breathing was no longer chore. Re-gathering all of his weaponry, the lavender hair Sayajin began his march after Reijin, but Android Thirteen took a moment to stay back, he had a lot on his mind.

What had happened to Trunks? Where these weapons sorted out fairly, or to give an advantage to one person? Why were they all working so nicely together when they barely knew each other? Fifteen people left, who?s going to turn on the group, it has to happen sometime, but when? Could he fend off these four by himself if they deem him to be useless?

?Son of a bitch.? muttered Thirteen making hast after the group. ?This game is going to become interesting very soon.?

Thirteen heard something in the distance, it was like an echo of sorts, but it was just dull enough that he couldn?t decipher what had caused it. Perhaps it were a weapon, if that was so, then someone very unlucky was on the opposing side of that noise. Suddenly wondering if they were heading into the direction of the noise, the droid couldn?t help but worry for the safety and sanity of the group. There wasn?t much more he could do, other than sit there and watch their backs. He would prove his worth once again if needed, but with only Fifteen people left, would it be as easy as he was thinking? Thirteen could only hope that he was right.

[Kami]

The mind games were really starting to crack down on everyone. There was an alliance in place, but at times it felt uneasy. The Namek knew that at any moment any one of them could decide that they needed to win the whole tournament by themselves and try to kill the rest of the team. It was that kind of mental strain that would break the weaker minded combatants far before any battles broke out.

It sounded like from the squabblings of Karl that something along those lines had already occurred. The game was becoming more intense in different ways that it had when it initially started. It was obviously taking more of a toll on some people than others.

Trunks for example. Kami wasn't exactly sure what in the blue hell had happened when he dropped to the ground screaming, but made sure to see if he was still walking along as the group traveled. He was hoping that in the end he'd get to battle it out with one of these fighters to be the winner of Dante's Abyss. It was a strange thought, but he'd prefer throwing down with one of these guys as opposed to getting sniped by some dickhead hiding a tree somewhere. That and the fight might actually be a bit more formal as opposed to the savage guerilla tactics that have been in play for the whole tournament thus far.

They had a plan, and they were sticking to it. Kami still thought Reijin's Sabiman was a little anoying, but he was being helpful for the time being. 13 was still bringing up the rear, probably struggling with some of the finer points of the strategy of the game. Vegeta seemed to be chatting with Trunks briefly, so Kami tried to chat up Reijin a little bit.

"I wish we had one of those damn cars like we did back during the second Friend or Foe event. What the hell was the name of that place anyways? I can never remember."

[Sammah]

What Reijin was saying was true. It was obvious to everyone, and no one could deny it. At some point within this game, should they survive Raditzu?s wrath, they would end up facing one another. Even Vegeta might be left fighting against his own son. The thought about how this game was just that, a game was hard for the king to overcome. Killing his son wasn?t in fact what he was doing, but just defeating him in a battle. He would still be alive, just not in the competition any longer.

He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind. Should that time come, then that?s when he?ll decide his actions. For now it was find the next group, and kill them off as fast as possible. Since the previous death occurred, the time limit has reset. Karl Jak had made his announcement, and a new map appeared for them to use. The island was now made so that the groups would be forced inward, rather than hiding like cowards along the perimeter. Vegeta was most pleased with this, bringing a straight grin to his face.

The dark cloud that hovered between the members of the group almost appeared to be lifting, although Trunks and Reijin would share their words, no doubt causing great disturbance within their own hearts, yet they both dealt with it in the utmost professional way.

Trunks then had a strange outbreak. Pain appeared to reek throughout his body, yet know one could determine the reason of illness. His power flicked through a transformation, and the earring he wore began to shine with an eerie color.

"Dammit, what's wrong with him?" Vegeta took a step back, a bit surprised at the sudden fanatic impulse. His eyes widened a bit as if trying to use some sort of x-ray vision to figure out what the problem was.

"I don't know," Kami responded. "I've never seen anything like this." Apparently the elder Namek was new to this game as well. He peered upon the young Saiya-jin prince, yet to his demise couldn?t tell just what was currently taking place.

Reijin gave the saiyan prince an unimpressed gaze. "He'll be all right in a minute." The short haired Saiya-jin didn?t look amused at all. The power that he shown didn?t even come anywhere near to touching the base of his, and Reijin shrugged it off. Vegeta was a bit disturbed by the way Reijin has been acting towards his son, but again, it was the whole sibling rivalry thing. The king knew it would take place among the two, and would just have to deal with it.

As soon as Reijin shrugged it off however, the intense glow emanating from Trunks? earring began to vanish from view. The boy opened his eyes, appearing to feel a hundred times better than just a few moments before. He took a deep breath as he sat up and rubbed the sides of his head.

"What the hell was that?" Trunks questioned himself, "That was so painful." Just the look of what had happened almost made Vegeta?s own head hurt, or perhaps it was just the father looking out for his son feat.

"How are you feeling now?" Thirteen enquired. The android slowly walking up towards the young prince in order to take record of his pain.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," Trunks was quick to respond, "But still, what ... was that?" No body knew, for this was a first timer. Perhaps there were still some things in the world that people were virgins to. Vegeta grabbed his bag full of the acquired weapons and slung it over his back.

?Good? but again, this isn?t time or the place to rest. So let?s keep moving.? Vegeta huffed and began to walk again in the same direction as they was initially headed in. The battle that was to come whether it be with Rad?s group or not was going to be fierce, and they needed as much of a jump on the situation as possible. Like Reijin said earlier, strategy was the key. The king dealt with many wars, and tactics was one of the key factors in all of them. His military training while growing up has always put him in a position of knowledge however, and this case was no different.

[Raditzu]

Its just a game, she's still alive... Its just a game, she's still alive... Its just a game, she's still alive

In the past ten seconds, Raditzu had adopted a new mantra which he was furiously repeated to himself over and over. Not as though he would actually have been able to chant it out loud... Bardock had seen to that rather efficiently. Rad rolled onto his side to see 18 laying there, lifeless. It was a scene he had only imagined in his worst nightmares. He was unable to do anything to help her know. The long-haired saiyan found he had trouble pulling himself to his feet. Not because of his wound, though. His body trembled with an unshakable combination of anger and remorse. His foot slipped in a small puddle of bloody mud, dropping the saiyan back to his knees. His hand shot out to steady himself and found the weapon 18 had dropped. Rad gripped it tightly and pulled himself back to his feet.

Very slowly, the pureblooded warrior turned to face his father. Bardock had rolled onto his stomach, pistol dropped to the ground at his side. The elder warrior's breath was coming fast and unsteady. It was painfully obvious that Bardock was in serious need of help and with good reason. These shotguns were hardly toys. Rad tore his eyes from Bardock for a minute, searching the ground. There, next to Bra's lower half, was his nail gun. He would made a mental note to apologize to Bra when he next saw her. He certainly didn't intend a death quiet so... painful as being cut in half. The saiya-jin gripped his original weapon in his free hand and once again turned to face Bardock. Rad's father had pulled himself up to one knee, as shaky as Raditzu had been, but for different reasons.

Its just a game, she's still alive...

Rad tossed the ki shotgun into the air.

Its just a game, she's still alive...

With a smooth, practiced motion, he caught the weapon by the pump.

Its just a game, she's still alive...

With a quick jerk, the weapon cocked. Rad tossed it into the air, catching it by the grip this time.

Its just a game, she's still alive...

It was just as well that he couldn't speak, for he could think of nothing to say as he leveled the weapon at his father.

[Minoshia]

He realized sitting behind a rock, surrounded by a makeshift stronghold that wouldn't hold up against the weakest fighters, probably wasn't very interesting to the viewers. He must have been an idiot to think that building this all would actually help him. Any decent warrior, and every combatant left was obviously a strong one, could obliterate his stronghold and probably bury him inside.

The problem wasn't all his foot, for some reason he was lacking confidence, lacking the vigor he usually had. The Prince of all Evil would never build a fortress to protect himself, what was he thinking, and almost on cue, his dark conscience returned from its little vacation it had been on.You fuckin' pansie, what the hell were you doing? I leave for moments to help out body recover and look what you go and do, probably listen to my uglier half. It was like a message from God, or Satan, in the Konat's case. He had survived an explosion from a rocket launcher; he was no pansie that hid behind nature!

Minoshia reached down to his foot, tearing off the bandage, he would weather the injury without help from any bark or sticks. Using his strong leg to propel himself, he jumped up onto the rock and turned on his stronghold. He stretched his right hand out, small energy balls glowing at the edge of each fingertip. The left hand, the one with two missing digits, stroked through his hair, holding it back, out of his eyes. Energy balls soared into the wooden structure, exploding on its surface. The wood cracked, splitting down the grain, its structural integrity being reduced to nothing. The Konat chuckled, laughing at the explosions. Blood from his fingers began running down his cheeks. He felt it rolling down his face, sticking his tongue out and catching a drop, tasting it. Adrenaline rushed through him; the taste of blood in his mouth was long overdue.

Looking at his dismembered hand, he began to laugh. His cackling voice silencing out the insects and small animals that chirped, and growled around him. Lifting the hand to his face, his wiped the blood in old warrior patterns, a streak running down from the forehead, over the eyes, or eye in his case, and down onto the cheek. He pressed the two adjacent fingers down on his cheek again, dragging them along and creating more streaks. The pain was unbearable, but he laughed at it. Pain was only weakness exiting the body.

Now that he had no more use for his own blood, he began to create a dull shimmer of Ki on his right index finger. Bring his two left handed stubs over to the energy; he pressed them into the small hazy ball growing around his digit. The searing pain was tremendous as the wound melted itself together, the skin merging in liquid form, and drying into a solid before his eyes. His teeth were clenched; eyes wide, and sharp like razors staring at the wound. Finally, the pain got to him.

"Are you fuckin happy!? Are you satisfied!? Is this entertaining!?" The last word came out as a hiss, as he stared into the camera filled sky, screaming his lungs out, his arms stretched out horizontally, creating ninety degree angles at his ribcage. " Fuck all of you. You wanted to see me die with that blast, didn't you!?" He waited for an answer, maybe Karl would respond, but nothing came as he shouted. "I promise you one thing. Before I leave this twisted game, you will all see my rage, you will all see the power of my hate."

[Bardock]

Bardock was down, pistol pointed up. A sadistic mix of satisfaction and pain was etched on his features.

Death?s shadow cast over the battlefield?one more life to take.

He grunted in discomfort. A large chunk of his flesh had been torn out of him by the android. But he got her. He got her. Twisted irony had warped the imagined of both of his rematches. His heart?s desires had been fulfilled, but in a way that was completely unexpected. Oh well. The saiyan had emerged the victor of both, and that was all he wanted.

Bardock chuckled, then hissed.

He placed a free hand on his midsection, pulling it away to reveal a palm soaked in blood. Bardock was much more screwed over than a broken nose now.

His nostrils were bombarded by the stench of fatality, his keen sense of smell completely consumed by it. Two down.

The proud fighter struggled to his knee, breathing raggedly.

Raditzu wasn?t playing around. He was getting ready for the coup de grace. Bar wasn?t about to run away. He wouldn?t leave unless he was the last one standing. And if he had anything to say about it, he would be the one. Son or not, Rad was still just another person to be eliminated.

It appeared they both had a mutual understanding of the situation, although the longhaired offspring was more in it for revenge, now. He was emotionally distraught, which was a hit or miss: it would either help him or prove to be his undoing.

Bardock kept the pistol level, his face darkening. His free hand strayed to the shotgun. Rad was ready to fire, completely unable to speak. Tension in the air was almost suffocating.

The fatigue that had once consumed his body was gone. Bardock?s fighting spirit coiled up into a spring, ready to launch everything he had. It all boiled down to this moment, these few seconds. The adrenaline rush was pure ecstasy. This was what battle was truly supposed to be.

Bardock cocked the pistol with his thumb, eyes nothing but intense. He would fight to his last breath.

Don?t expect me to just lay down and die?

[Burter Jr]

Face to Face

Bardock and Raditzu

Not a word was spoken. Blood poured from the small open wound on Rad's neck-bone, while Bardock's face and torso were almost completely obliterated.

Father and son, turned into enemies. Dante's Abyss had crushed another family with success. They had fallen into the game, and couldn't climb out.

There was nothing to be said about what happened. Two fingers pulled the triggers.

Six pistol shot painfully into the torso of Raditzu, who fired off the shotgun blast. It missed Bardock, causing Rad to hit the tree with a slight ka-thunk. When Rad fell to the ground, he fired again.

Bardock didn't stray. The shot hit him right in the neck, where he had hit Raditzu, and blasted away his bone structure. It was an almost science-fiction sight, to see his head held on by a simple strand of skin. His body dropped to the ground with a thud.

"Good...jo..."

That was it. Ten seconds of gun firing. Ten seconds that seemed to add up to eternity. Raditzu was like a child again, lost in the sensation of the drama. Even he couldn't explain it. Sad? Mad? Happy?

It had only lasted ten seconds, but for Raditzu, and even the dead Bardock, it was still going on.

#14 Bardock DEAD

12 Fighters Remaining

Raditzu's been shot up on the torso. Major injury.