[01] Mountain Sector FIGHT

[DA 2009]

MOUNTAIN SECTOR FIGHT

(1) REM-13 vs. Shou

(2) Orion vs. NPC Hollywood

Since REM-13 did not make it to a bunker in time, Shou is automatically the winner. You both can, if you like, post for the fight anyway. REM-13 will be officially dusted and eliminated during judgments.

[Orion]

Orion glanced about at the rocky terrain with his good eye, wondering if he’d been lucky enough to be on the trail of a good fight. As if to answer his prayers, and shut the damn god in his head up, his collar started beeping. At first, he was confused; he’d entered a bunker, so he should have been safe. Then, as it began to vocalize its procedure, Orion realized what was going on.

“It’s about damn time,” he whispered with a grin.

He could feel his body shift as he was teleported. A stasis field erupted from his collar, locking him in place. The cycloptic saiyan tensed, ready for whoever was going to come his way.

“Looks like you’re the lucky one this round,” somebody laughed.

Orion spun, facing the direction of the voice. A blond-haired man in designer sunglasses jumped down from a rocky ridge above, landing with the grace of a mountain lion. He straightened up, and flashed a grin of perfect white teeth.

“Or unlucky, depending on how you want to look at it. Unfortunately for you, I’m the best Eliminator there is,” he laughed. He tipped his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, letting his blue eyes peer from above the shades. “Name’s Hollywood.”

Without waiting for Orion’s reply, Hollywood dropped slowly into a fighting stance. “Let’s dance.”

"Dance?" Orion repeated. "You want to dance? Not very befitting of a warrior, really."

"I ... what?" Hollywood asked, confused at the question. "No, I mean let's dance!"

The one eyed saiyan lifted a solitary eyebrow. "That sounds just like what you said before. Are you sure you're in the right competition?"

The blonde stuntsman slid his designer sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. "Are you trying to get me mad?"

Orion genuinely didn't know what this man wanted. First he says he wants to dance, then he can't answer a straight question about his desire to participate in Dante's Abyss. "Look, do you want to fight me or not?"

Hollywood slapped his forehead with his hand. "Yes. That's what the phrase 'let's dance' means. Even a five year old knows that." His bemusement made way for his true to form arrogance. "Are you smarter than a five year old?"

The mercenary saiyan smirked. He eyed the ki rifle in his hands. Shooting dead this cocky human would take away all the tactile pleasure of winning. He flung the weapon behind him and out of reach, cracking his knuckles sharply. Orion was already seeing the mental flaw in his opponent that he could easily exploit. Normally, it wasn't easy to pinpoint until later in the duel, after he followed his punches, kicks and dodges. This one, however, loved himself too much to hide it.

"Absolutely," Orion confirmed. He beckoned the blonde upstart with a curled finger.

"Let's go!" Hollywood roared, taking off into a sprint so fast that a cloud of dirt erupted behind him. The saiyan warrior may have identified his personality trait to manipulate, but he didn't know how this cocky stuntsman fought. Now was the time to find out.

A swift jab flew for Orion's head. Nodding to the side, he barely avoided a direct hit, feeling the wind brush his cheek from the attack. Despite his rather ... oddball attire and muscular physique, this Hollywood harvested great speed. Great fortune, then, that the cycloptic fighter had just concluded training with the lightning quick god of speed in the heavenly realms.

Three more greased strikes tried for Orion's head, but all missed. Just as the saiyan felt he was on top of his opponent, an unexpected knee jammed into his midsection. Reacting vibrantly, Orion doubled over before Ray bore his elbow into the back of the veteran's skull.

The seasoned warmonger saw stars swimming across his vision. Falling face first into the rocky soil, Orion realised he had underestimated his adversary. Not only was he capable of blurred and rapid movements but they belied the weight behind the blows. It was rare that a warrior possessed both immense strength and adroitness. Beneath the hidden grimace buried into the ground, Orion rediscovered the old flame of challenge. This was going to be fun.

"Had enough yet?" Hollywood viciously mocked, raising a leg to drive it into his downed opponent's spine.

Orion's fingers clawed a quantity of impure dirt into his palm. In one fluid motion, he spun on the ground, hurling the granules into Ray's eyes. Unfortunately, he forgot about his sunglasses, shielding him from the unfair tactic. Hollywood, spurred on from the failed smokescreen, merely 'tsk'ed and shook his head, reveling in greater confidence at his perceived superiority.

"I know you can only beat me by fighting 'dirty'", he began, making air quotes, "but c'mon, at least wait until you're on your final legs or something. It just makes you come off as desperate if you try to - ooof!"

Tired of the vain man's self indulgent ramblings, Orion stole a moment. His foot firmly planted into Norris' chest, knocking him convincingly off his feet and landing several metres away. Leaping up, he charged at Ray, who was also gaining his footing. Fortunately for him, his timing was impeccable.

Orion threw the first punch, but Hollywood dodged. The saiyan continued with a fist barrage, but the blonde haired stuntsman moved with the agility of a cheetah. A wild uppercut sliced through air as Norris backflipped out of Orion's reach. Attempting to pin the acrobatic fighter down, the one eyed mercenary swung downwards, hoping to connect with Ray's head as he evaded the previous attack. Orion's punch also missed the mark, shattering a hole in the solid earth.

Hollywood righted himself a safe distance away, forcibly laughing to incite his enemy's rage and fuel his own bloated ego. Shaking his head to wave his hair in an arrogant fashion, he tilted his head forward, slipping the shades coyly to the bulb of his nose. Staring over them with his smoldering, condescending gaze, he grinned moronically.

"Wow! You're quick!" Hollywood exclaimed sarcastically. "Too bad you're an old man with a newspaper and I'm the young fly."

Without a further reaction, Orion ripped his hand from the artificial crater and took expert aim in moments. His open palm expelled a sudden and overwhelming Full Power Energy Wave, bathing the barrens in an unnatural blue hue. Hollywood almost choked on his own breath, completely ambushed by the abrupt attack.

He dove to the side in a last ditch attempt to avoid riding the head of the beam, his sunglasses falling from his face in the hurried movement. The energy blast missed Hollywood by inches. Hauntingly mesmerised by the pulsing column of ki, Norris watched his very expensive designer shades corrode into a vanishing shadow.

The careening energy wave crashed into the base of one of the region's numerous rocky towers. An explosion of blooming boulders arced from its foundations, obscuring the surrounding landscape in a plume of opaque smoke. With the supports dissolved, random segments of the looming spire segmented, raining down. The blast finally took its toll on its structure, collapsing upon itself.

Hollywood stood up, absorbing the accumulated sweat on his brow with the sleeve of his leather jacket. "Fancy trick."

Orion snarled, a thin line of smoke wafting from his hand. "Lucky dodge."

Ray guarded his concern, instead replacing it with his trademark audacity. "I might be a stuntman, but I don't use special effects in my fights."

This guy was wearing his patience thin. The idea occurred to him to obtain his ki rifle and gun down the annoying man, but as he chose earlier, he would stick to his honour and win his first battle without its aid. Orion was faster than he once was, but Ray was still nimbler and infuriatingly swift. The battle could be anyone's at this pace.

Norris was a vain, self absorbed moron. He needed to play on that to carve the edge in this fight. Yet, what was the best way to expose and control that flaw?

Just look at him. What a smug bastard, Orion thought to himself. Look at that vain, self absorbed, slick haired ... Then it hit him. Hollywood was reminiscent of someone he knew rather well, even if it was against his own will.

"Anitan!" the garishly dressed saiyan cried out on impulse, startling his opponent. "I need to talk to you!"

He waited, but only silence filled his head.

"Are you going crazy or something?" Hollywood interjected, capitalising on his combatant's obscure behaviour. "Do you need to go to a looney bin or something? Mentally unfit to fight?"

"Anitan!" Orion repeated. "God, you talk my damn ear off when I don't want you, but when I finally want you, you've wandered off to-"

<What? I'm here,> Anitan responded reluctantly. <I told you I wasn't going to interfere.>

"Look," the deceased ex-pupil continued, quieter so that his words wouldn't find Hollywood's ears. "This guy reminds me of you a bit."

<Really? ... Well, he's sorta got a good fashion sense, but that blonde hair? Blue eyes? What is he trying to pull?>

"Anyway, just answer me this, and then go back to shutting up. What ticks you off?"

<What kind of question is that?>

"Just ... answer it, please."

Anitan ummed. <I hate it when - people that I might know, for instance - ignore me when I have so much flair and talent. That really boils my bl->

"Thanks," Orion interrupted. "Now be silent again." He scanned Hollywood with his one eye, trying to identify any imperfection. This stuntman decked himself out in what appeared to be ritzy clothing, at least for a human. Having already flamboyantly unsheathing his raging self absorption, Orion hazarded a guess that Hollywood took great pride in his aesthetics.

"Hey!" the saiyan shouted. "You have ... uh ... an inferior jacket!"

Ray Norris chortled. "Do you know what label this is? Obviously not. Idiot."

Orion groaned. Swing and a miss. "Well, you ... uh ... don't have sunglasses anymore!"

"Duh," he confirmed condescendingly. "You vaporised them, remember? But it doesn't matter. I have lots of those. It's no real problem."

"Yeah?" the saiyan defied, running low on ideas. "Well ... your hair is ... bad!"

Hollywood's jovial countenance drained from his face. "What did you just say?"

Orion smirked victoriously. "I said ... your hair is stupid!"

A fiery vengeance burned in Ray's baby blue eyes. "How dare you!" His hands balled into tight fists, whitening his knuckles. Thick veins bulged and hugged his temples. His eyes lost the arrogant sheen they once displayed. Clamping his teeth together, Hollywood birthed a vindictive expression that, if the old adage 'if looks could kill' were true, may have slain Orion right there on the spot.

"You'll pay for that insult, you peon!" Norris swore, stampeding towards the eye patch clad soldier with greater recklessness than before.

Orion chuckled, tensing his arms. "I'm not a very rich man, but you're welcome to expunge the payment yourself."

[Shou]

Shou was just grateful that they left rations for him to resupply his stomach. After his second bite he scoffed aloud, unconsciously filing through his memories. He recalled Zephyr talking about being imprisoned on #213 and mentioning that they only served him bread and water, but that the time on his hands turned him into a physique artist. That was when the young telekinetic figured it was time to do something about getting a Hulk Hogan-esque figure, but there wasn't enough dedication to that impulse. All that Shou gathered from that meeting of minds was that he shouldn't get locked up on Frost.

"Hhmmmph?" He said or asked, a mouthful of bread keeping him from enunciating. Oh... Right. It was his collar.

Shou was familiar with collars as slave control tactics, but was never thought he would be on the receiving end of such a contraption. Given that this was a highly marketed and glorified wargame didn't do anything to make him feel any more comforted. Neither did the shrill, warning beep the thing emitted when he tampered with it.

“Searching… searching…” a computerized, feminine voice came from his throat. He immediately recognized it as the woman broadcasting over the PA system back on Dante. Or here on... Dante? “Signal located. Beginning combat protocol,” Her voice [I]definitely had a tinge less digital in it back in the hotel lobby. Suddenly he was no longer in the bunker, but in a valley somewhere along the regions numerous dips and slopes.

“Stasis field engaging,” And its warning became actuality; a pearlescent cyan reflection glazed against the natural sky blue that many of the summits scraped.

Shou scratched the back of his head, unsure of his fate or the plans of whoever wrote that book. He was silent, but only because he was sure he wasn't mistaken about the Abyss' intentions when he was teleported here after the announcement of combat protocols and such.

"Hope it's not Vad..." he mused, testing the resilience of his face covering with a tug. It was when he stretched his arms towards the skies above and yawned that he realized he would not be facing Vad in mortal combat.

A man came down upon him from the heavens, a single crimson eye and sharp steel aimed upon him. If it weren't for his zealous preservation of what of good looks he still had he would've probably been on the wrong side of a 'best of' highlight reel. His blade kissed the earth, but Shou wasn't about to wait about and get slaughtered.

Cerullean energy poured from both his palms and expelled into the chest of the would-be eliminator, who flew for quite some yardage before regaining his composure. Shou frowned, half expecting the man to fall down the ravine and begone. It was when he looked up at him from a distance, with his one good eye, and Shou tried to imagine a cocky grin underneath his mask that he realized that he probably wasn't even human.

"What's your deal, anyway?" Shou quipped to no response.

His opponent simply gave him a once over and then sprinted along the slope they stood on and met the saiyan with a swing and miss, then a hook to the body. It was apparent that he hit much harder than Shou was comfortable with being hit on, but Shou found his footing regardless and repelled the one-eyed warrior with a likeminded burst of ki.

"Weirdo, I swear..." Shou muttered to himself, more so than his opponent. That was when the demisaiyan noticed he'd placed him right next to his blade with his last motion, while Shou's rifle was nowhere in sight. "Here we go again..."

The cybernetic ninja lurched forward, closing their distance to nil in a matter of moments and lashing out with that sword. Shou phased out of his way, appearing behind him and watching him look about in confusion.

"Hey, PC... Over here." Shou motioned for him to approach, despite the fact that they fought on the slope instead of finding level ground like normal combatants. Reconsidering he pointed to the blade and wagged a finger. The blade flew from the droids graspand flew into the ravine. "My advantage, y'know..."

[DA 2009]

ORION VS. HOLLYWOOD

Ray gave a scream of vengeance for the crack about his perfectly quaffed hair, and charged at Orion with reckless abandon. His movements were no longer smooth, or graceful; all of the technique had gone out of him. Of course, that was Orion’s intent. Using his speed training, Orion dodged each and every attempted blow with a smirk. Waiting for an opening, the saiyan finally found it, and capitalized. He thrust the heel of his palm upward and jammed it underneath Hollywood’s chin with crushing force. Hollywood’s teeth ground together painfully, and the gravity of the impact sent him flying backwards. The saiyan wasn’t about to give his opponent the chance to recover; he followed up the blow with another Full Power Energy Wave. The concentrated blast once again swathed the mountainous region into a blanket of blue, only this time, Hollywood wasn’t in any position to dodge. His body was completely covered, obscuring the stuntman from sight. Orion lowered his smoking palm, smirking; he’d scored a direct hit.

When the blast finally cleared, a new hollow had been carved out in the rock-face. Hollywood’s limp body sprawled out in the epicenter of the newly reconstructed landmark. Orion carefully approached, gauging the status of his opponent. Ray’s body was smoldering, covered with black bits of charred stone ash. His clothes were in a hideous state of disrepair: ripped, torn, and burned. Without warning, Norris’ eyes popped open.

“Hello.”

Orion couldn’t react fast enough before Hollywood reared back his legs and delivered a mighty kick to the saiyan’s kneecaps. Orion grunted in pain; even with the bits of armor shielding his shins, the strength of the blow was undeniable. Hollywood flipped backwards, landing on his feet in a crouch. He burst forward like a rocket, and thrust his palm out, connecting square with Orion’s sternum. The saiyan was launched backward with as much ferocity as he’d dealt to Hollywood. Just as he was about to hit the ground, Ray was there with unspeakable speed, and he spun his body into a butterfly kick, slamming Orion into the earth at an odd angle. The saiyan skidded along, heading dangerously towards a cliff. He managed to hang on to the edge with one hand, the rest of him dangling precariously below. Despite the fact that Orion could easily fly, he was still too dazed—and slightly fatigued from his repeated expenditure of ki—to pull himself up.

Hollywood’s image blurred, and he appeared standing above his opponent.

“It’s called ‘acting,’ friend. Give my regards to Xenia if you find her,” Ray said, winking. With a mighty plunge, Hollywood stomped his Vans sneaker onto Orion’s face, using enough force to completely knock him unconscious. Orion’s grip loosened, and he fell, plummeting to the ground below.

Hollywood smirked victoriously, popping his high end-label jacket. He snapped his fingers in the air expectantly.

“Wardrobe, please,” he said.

A second went by, and a brand new pair of sunglasses materialized over his face. The stuntman adjusted them over the bridge of his perfectly sculpted nose. His clothes were fully restored to their original, pristine state. He turned around and jaunted along, trying to show off his “player walk.” His hand reached up to smooth a few stray strands of blond hair back into place. With a thought, he suddenly looked up, as if about to talk to a higher power. When he spoke, his voice came out hesitant, uncertain.

“Is my… is my hair stupid?” he asked aloud.

Back in the control room, Audric stared at the screen. He cocked his jaw to the side, and looked away from the monitor, checking to see if anyone was watching him. Slowly reaching over the console, his finger tapped a button, and the monitor of Hollywood went blank.

[DA 2009]

REM-13 VS. SHOU

Before REM-13 could reevaluate his tactics, a sharp beeping noise emitted from his collar. He looked down at it, somewhat curiously, if he knew specifically that it was curiosity. He was…unsure of how to react. Should he continue to fight, as Zero had instructed for him to do? Or should he wait and see what was happening? Was this good, or bad?

“Hey, I think you forgot something,” Shou pointed out with a smirk.

REM-13 looked up and cocked his head to the side. In a flash, his body evaporated.