[02] Mountain Sector

[DA 2009]

MOUNTAIN SECTOR

Time Of Day: Noon

Bunker: Active

Starting Players: Shou, Orion

[Vad]

A torrent of colors filled the void. He heard the screams of horror echoing around him. A high pitched whir came out of nowhere and compiled the noise into a cocktail of sound. Tamsin had bested him in a fight to the death...but the Saiyan wasn't dead. How Vad managed to pull of this loss didn't matter to him. If he ever saw her again she was going to be killed. Inside of the tournament or out, the man now held a grudge.

He had been holding back whilst keeping his wife in mind. She didn't necessarily like beating up on younger women, but she also didn't want her husband to lose. It was a complex situation. Should he forgo her usual guidelines and slaughter everything and everyone? Of course the other option had already failed in practice. The only logical and tactical option that remained was to get up, recover, and unleash the beast. Trixie kept him in check when she was around. Her job, other than being his wife and lover, was to be an information gathering machine; though machine was a metaphor for being really good at it. A secondary role was to keep her husband from losing control. Vad's gene pool dominantly had taken after his father's traits. Toma had an unimaginable temper and could go on for days in a heated rage without anything to stop him but exhaustion.

Unfortunately Vad suffered from the same problem. Trixie's control over his mind would allow her to focus him on the task at hand and keep from making irrational decisions. The downside was that his fighting skill is hampered when trying to control his temper. When unleashed however, his deep knowledge of combat shows itself and he's the killing machine he was made to be. A pain tolerance of near masochistic proportions with an unlimited thirst for blood are the two definable things to be said about him during a fit of anger.

It was time to unleash the beast within. It was time to unleash Toma's son.

***

Vad jerked awake and took a deep breath before spitting out what dirt he had in his mouth. His wounds had stopped bleeding, but the muscles around them were extremely sore and he could feel that everything had swollen.

"Stupid...bitch." He breathed as he rolled onto his back.

Clenching his stomach muscles he sat up and examined his surroundings. It was deep night and the barrier had faded. Clambering to his feet Vad began shedding his torso of armor. The dried blood on his skin cracked and flaked as he moved to unclasp each section. Exposing the stab wound on his shoulder he grimaced at the sight of it. Leaving his armor on the ground the ex-assassin began limping east toward some unknown destination.

"I'll give her one thing; she's tough. I just need to go all out. Time to get serious and push everything I've got into each fight. I have a feeling I'm going to need it."

It was a cool night. The full moon peered down upon the forest, it's rays of moon light shining through the openings in the canopy. What little light there was helped the scouter amplify it's night vision for Vad's right eye.

~~~~~

The heads up display on the Saiyan's scouter suddenly scrambled and the device shut off. As the injured Saiyan pushed his way through a dense shrub he found himself falling. He stumbled through the barrier separating the forest and mountain sector blindly and began to skid down a steep slope made of gravel and slate; it had suddenly become noon. The sun was bright against his dilated eyes.

Remaining calm the Saiyan pushed with his right hand and got to his feet. Through excruciation pain Vad sprinted down the hill; his thigh wound had begun to bleed again and was trailing down his leg and onto the stone below. Eyeing the bottom he finally realized the jagged formation of rocks accompanying the change from slanted to horizontal earth.

Taking a giant leap the man shot into the air and high over the jagged stone below. As he began to sink his body suddenly burst upward and he was enveloped by a brilliant blue aura. What little energy he had left had just saved him from possible broken limbs which would have disabled him from fighting effectively. Not a lucky man he was.

Taking to the skies Vad rocketed along the landscape which soon became cold and dry. Snow capped mountains littered the horizon with clouds wrapping around them. His scouter rebooted and located two energy signatures to his left and right. Both were a ways off, but he needed to eye them carefully.

After sweeping the southeastern portion of the sector and after a good amount of flying Vad felt fatigue begin to rapidly sap his strength. It wasn't helping that he was freely losing blood from his thigh and the rapid drain of energy needed to sustain an aura during flight was murder on his stamina.

Finally a shimmer of hope appeared. He spotted a gateway built into the base of a rather large mountain. Zooming in with his scouter confirmed it was a building.

"Must be the bunker."

Zulenka slowly began his descent toward the structure almost completely falling from the sky several times from fatigue. Deciding not to take time for granted he plow himself gently into the steel door.

THUD

He barely caught himself as he grabbed the doors handle and swung it open. Stumbling down the steps and into the medical area he calmly, but desperately removed a large medical container from the shelf. Resting his back to a wall he slid down with the kit in hand and as his butt hit the floor he passed out.

Vad moves to Mountain Sector

Vad enters Mountain Sector Bunker

[Shou]

There was beeping... then there was a shadow of the cyborgs silhouette before breeze took it away from him. Shou stiffled a chortle, in spite of promising himself to take the passing of life a little less heartily. There was just something off about that guy, and then his fascination with his imminent fate struck one of the saiyans misundertood humor nerves. Had Shou known that his foe had been an android maybe he could've laughed easy, but the Kid Kamikaze only knew that he hoped that entering that bunker kept him from sharing a similar fate. 13's predicament served Shou's common sense and lack of depth perception a swift kick in the ass.

"I'd seriously better get out of this sun." Shou stated, noting the high noon. In the back of his mind he felt that getting back to a bunker would keep the lump in his throat from choking him. And maybe taking a scenic route to ensure that there was much more than these mountainous regions would do him some good. "Is that my gun?"

On instinct he found his Combat Teleportation carving time off his journey, placing him not more that fifty meters from the foot of the great mountain that held the bunker. It was much more luxury to find that it didn't offend his headspace with aches, than to have this gift.

Gravel crunched underfoot in his headlong sprint, as he didn't want to be blindsided out in the open—gunless much less. When he reached the stairs that descended into the underbelly he took wind in his lungs and heaved a sigh of triumph. He'd have a story to share with his neglected, misfit friends back on earth and he'd try to pull himself out of Agent Greys pocket. It might've been time for Tiff and Zeph to pull some weight in his scheme for vengeance. On arrival, however, something was amiss...

Blood droplets. They weaved a deceptive tale all along the corridor, leading the halfbreed past the ration storage and further downstairs. If anyone was going to be ill-prepared for combat it wasn't going to be him, not again. Shou was going to have his junk in everyones business from here on out.

Taking a calming breath, he brought the tingling sensation that ki had on his fingertips to life and his energy made itself apparent. It bathed him in a vivid light and cast a faint glow on the corridor leading to the medical bay, so Shou wasted no time bursting in waving his primed weapon around. He cocked a brow and grinned stupidly when he noticed a familiar face, slumped over and —unsurprisingly—with his back against the wall.

"Vad! Out of all the sum'bitches to run into 'round here..." Shou started, but noticed that the warrior was bleeding all over the place and definitely needed some patching up. Unfortunately Shou wasn't a pre-med college transfer, a field medic, or even a nurse. His knowledge through this scoope was limited. Ironically, he wished he was back on Mercy with the helpful and hindering abilities of the ice queen, but that was a luxury he didn't possess. And giving it a second thought, Mercy? Fuck Mercy!

But Vad wasn't going to patch himself up and Shou's palm to face attempts at reviving him wasn't getting him much results. Neither was his much less reserved, wide-arched, open-palmed interpretations on revival. Casting aside his futile methods, Shou decided he'd get Vad from bleeding out all over the floor and survey the nature of his wounds.

Double underhooks... FAAHUCCK!! You got blood all over my —aargh— everything! Shou silently cursed the saiyan as he pinned him against the wall and looked over his shoulder towards the observation table. The younger saiyan squatted slightly, to where Vad would fall easily over his shoulder. Lift from the hips, not the back... Damn this guy's heavy... All that damned armor...

Dropping him on the table with an unminded, metallic thud Shou retrieved the first aid kit that Vad had forgotten to get around to using before he fell asleep and pried it open. Its contents were varied and spartan, but he was sure this would look good on any resume as long as he didn't fuck up too badly. Telekinetically, he peeled away layers of Vads armor.

Check you out, multiple stab wounds... Left thigh, right shoulder, right-side chest... Lucky it wasn't the heart, huh? Shou only played doctor with willing, female participants who were harmed in no way, shape or form (maybe emotionally, but that usually wound up being too complicated for him to try and grasp and much more than he bargained for). This was the real deal and he knew very basic fundamentals: pressure slows bleeding, stitches makes scars. Judging by Vads unceremonial display he shouldn't have minded a half-assed stitch job.

Shou used the smaller pieces of Vads armor and some telekinetic whim to apply pressure at multiple points while he dirtied his hands. He made sure to sterilize beforehand, as he didn't want karma to repay him in ignorance. The bleeding was stopped and much of Vads wounds were sealed, the stitch count lost somewhere after one-eight-seven. With a final snip Shou admired his handiwork, though he hoped that there was actually a doctor (or a tailor, if non-medical personnel) on-site whenever he needed stitching. It seemed this contest was for real, despite his own lack of scars from the competition. Shou couldn't help but wonder exactly how it was Vad wound up on Dante.

Satisfied, the brown-haired operative rushed upstairs to get a bottle of water from storage and to rifle through anything he may have overlooked on his first run-through.

Shou entered Mountain Sector bunker

[Vad]

Immediately after the Saiyan had passed out his mind was launched into an all too familiar black abyss. This time he welcomed it, but instead of succumbing to the nightmares he fell into a coma like sleep. His exhausted mind and soul began to regain it's lost willpower and mend certain thoughts and emotions. For the first time in several years his mind was allowed the freedom to process everything he had seen. It felt like a heated night in bed with his wife only it was non stop. He felt relief overtake his mental prowess as concerns and dreams were examined and put to rest. The process was almost inhuman, but Vad was far from a normal person. His mind was severely damaged; it had been ever since he was a young boy. The sadism he came to know, however, had benefited him in more ways than one. While a normal person would have gone mad experiencing even a third of the stuff he had in his life or even the pain, Vad Zulenka could discard the why and the how. He could literally ignore all ethical conscience and kick Jimeny Cricket out on his ass.

He was by nature truly evil. Though some part of him felt emotion. This part was newly created and still in beta testing, so to speak. Trixie had introduced love and pleasure (that didn't involve killing people) into his life. She, along with his father (of all people), had shown him the value of befriending people and keeping them as allies. The Saiyan princess, Sage, was the first one to bring the want to help someone into his life. The emotion that claws at ones mind to take hold and tell that person everything would be okay. Of course Vad wasn't that type of person, instead he slaughtered anything trying to harm the young doctor. He kept her safe and put his body and life on the line not because of her royalty , but because she had offered to help him save the one person he cared most about in the world.

Beatrix Zulenka.

Their was little to say about Piper. She, with the use of an unknown ability, automatically knew Vad wasn't as dangerous as he lead on to be. She assisted him in destroying an immediate thread on Earth, but Trixie had decided to save her. The blond haired woman taught nothing he hadn't already learned; or so he believed. Misa Fujiroka had healed them in a time of need and provided a bit of comedic relief to the group during his time on Earth fighting Sasha. She was short lived, but he learned briefly what it was to laugh; laugh at something funny and not at someones stupidity or pain.

***

Vad regained consciousness slowly. As he opened his heavy eyelids his vision was blurred and the only thing he could see is what looked to be the ceiling of the bunker. His wounds had been crudely closed and bandaged. But by who? Pain radiated from each wound as the Saiyan slowly rose to a seated position. His vision was slowly becoming focussed and the environment around him being pieced together. Zulenka's temples throbbed painfully at the loss of blood. He felt nauseas, hungry, and thirsty. The soldiers greatest enemy is dehydration and the man rarely drank anything. Then again he wasn't a normal human soldier on the front lines. His Saiyan blood and the KI wells he possessed gave him an inhuman stamina. Over time his body became adjusted to feeding off of his KI for things it needed. It was crude, but it kept the Saiyan going. It certainly didn't replace a good meal though.

Examining the room further he noticed the armor he once adorned was piled in a corner. His simple civilian clothing remained on him, but they were blood caked and torn in areas around his injuries.

“Gah. I feel like shit.” Vad whispered to himself.

Sliding his legs to the right he placed them on the cold concrete floor. Rubbing the bridge of his nose he closed his eyes in an attempt to stop his head from pounding. Placing most of his weight on his good leg the Saiyan managed to get to his feet. Hobbling over to the open medical kit he removed a bottle of pills and slipped it into his pants pocket. Making his way slowly to the opening of the room he peered down the hallway to his left. A set of stairs lay positioned ready to take him deeper into the bunker. Vad wasn't about to try navigating a flight of stairs. Not in his current condition. Across from him he saw an area that looked like a small storage area. He began to hobble across the hall and into the room.

The full-blood's assumption was correct. It was a storage room. Several refrigerators and freezers sat in the back corner while metal shelves were stocked with dry food and ingredients. Eyeing the shelf closest to him he noticed a bottle of water and a protein drink. Limping to the shelf he rested his weight against it as he painfully knelt down to pick up his two desired items.

Placing the protein infused beverage on a shelf easily accessible to him he twisted off the cap to the water and popped four pain killers into his mouth. Taking a long gracious drink of the room temperature liquid he finished the bottle. Discarding the empty container he took a breath and felt a wave of relief wash over him. A sigh escaped the lips of Vad as he reached for the canned shake he had removed from the bottom shelf.

Popping open the aluminum top he downed half of the shake before letting a belch escape his stomach.

“This should at least provide something to rebuild my muscles for the time being.” Zulenka mused as he took another drink of the shake.

It was good. Thick and creamy it tasted like chocolate cake mixed with frosting; or that's what the can had said. Vad had never eaten anything of that sort. Restricted to meats and complex foods to keep his body healthy had kept him away from any sort of junk food.

Need to tell Trixie about this when I'm done here.

Crushing the empty can in his hand he tossed it to the floor like the previously full bottle of water and turned toward the exit.

“Time to have a seat and wait for a bit.”

[Alexander Trafford]

The expression pasted across his visage was not one of arrogance or celebration, but of frustration and anger. Alexander was livid. Not only had his inevitable victory been halted by some damned invisible force, but he had been cast out of the warm, cozy bunker and into the hellacious cold of the arctic tundra. Was this not a competition? One where the weak are eliminated in order to pit the strongest and elite against one another? They had been selected to be participants in an exhibition of natural selection; a few would rise above adversity, and the rest would die in the pursuit of survival. Apparently, in this scenario, the promise of true competition was nothing more than a red herring; the promise was little more than bait to ascertain their presence on this fucking island. And he had bit, and bit hard.

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” Trafford hissed through clenched teeth. It was not in his nature to be violent or angry, or at least to his knowledge it wasn’t. He figured these emotions had been repressed beneath the surface by the order and oppression of his privileged childhood. Whatever caused this outrage, be it the cold or the fight or some other deep seeded character flaw, his fury was not subsiding. And he did not know what disturbed him more, his anger or the lengths to which he felt comfortable going to uncover the source of this farce known as Dante’s Abyss, because, if he knew anything, this was not simply a competition for the sake of competition. “And that orange haired punk, or anyone else for that matter, better not get in my mother fucking way . . .”

The slow, wandering trudge that had previously marked his journey was absent. It had been replaced by the furiously determined march of a man on a mission; the long-stride swagger that was present in the climax of any film worth its salt. Clint Eastwood, Trafford’s silver-screen idol, knew it well, and now Alexander got his taste. Seldom in his life had he really had a purpose, or a vision, that he attacked with such urgency. But this fraudulent fight had been the last straw in a series of misfortunes. His father, OmniCorp, his addictions, Alice’s death . . . his entire life he had been avoiding confrontation with his problems. This was it; he would not be running anymore.

~~~*~~~

Trafford never made bets unless he was absolutely sure he would win, and he would bet everything he owned, which, admittedly, wasn’t much, that his answers would not be found in this arctic wasteland. No, his destination was elsewhere.

The problem was, he had no idea where elsewhere was.

He looked first to his left, and then to his right, and all he could see was snow – billions of fair, uncorrupted white flakes dancing eternally in the constant, howling winds that stained this winter wonderland with miserable, freezing depression. Before him however, and not too far off, he could see mountainous peaks that were uncovered by the all-too-familiar alabaster surface. In front of the two most ominous peaks, or perhaps in between them, he saw another familiar sight – a bunker.

As he marched on, and the snow beneath his feet and the wind on his face lessened, Alexander discarded his warm jacket and hat as he prepared for warmer climates. He kept the satchel though, it was a much more comfortable and convenient means of storing his belongings then in the inner pocket of his Armani suit.

And so, with a lit cigarette sitting snug in the corner of his mouth and his finger resting on the trigger of his newly acquired energy assault rifle, Trafford made his way into the foreign section of this forsaken island.

Alexander Trafford moves from the Arctic Sector to the Mountain Sector, and enters the Mountain Sector Bunker

[Vad]

A wave of fresh pain rushed to the senses as the crudely formed stitches were cut and the healing wound reopened. Taking a disinfectant soaked bandage Vad gently dabbed the cloth over his knife wound. Clenching his jaw on the broken broom pole he had wedged between his teeth he discarded the bloody piece of weaved cotton. Taking a suher kit from the open medical box he tore open the package and lifted his leg. Inserting the curved needle on one end of the opening he began to sew the gash closed. Reaching the end of the injury he tied and cut the thread, discarding the needle in a bin.


Taking a fresh gauze pad he placed it over the now properly closed wound and held it in place. With his free Vad removed a roll of surgical tape from the medical kit and taped the bandage securely to his leg.


“I hope this fucking heals enough before the next fight.” The Saiyan whispered admiring his work.


Deciding that the other injuries were stitched together enough to avoid having to redo them, the Saiyan redid his bandages and discarded all of the used medical supplies in the biohazard placed convieniently in the corner of the room. Rummaging through the box revealed a series of cases containing syringes. Noticing one labeled with a Royal Family logo he took one out.


Removing the cap of the needle Vad pushed the plunger slightly before plunging the metal instrument into his arm. Emptying the liquid into his vein he felt the pain running through his body dull enough to where he could ignore it. Taking a bottle of water that he had retrieved from the storage closet the Saiyan twisted off the cap and took a drink. Swishing it around it in his mouth he spit it onto the concrete floor.


“Time to get something to eat.”

***

The Saiyan hobbled down the steps and deeper into the bunker searching for something remotely resembling a kitchen. Noticing a sign on the wall he sighed feeling slightly stupid. An arrow pointing down the hall said “Kitchen.” Pushing off the concrete wall Vad limped toward his destination. The lower level of the bunker was cool and damp. Rough concrete cinder block made up most of the structure. The floor was oddly made of a rather expensive looking wood paneling. It posed the question as to why someone would put wood flooring in a bunker.


Upon reaching the kitchen he leaned against the door frame and examined the appliances in the little alcove. A refrigerator, oven, stove, microwave, sink, and various cabinets and drawers. Moving to the fridge Vad opened the freezer and examined the contents. His pupils dilated as he noticed a steak on the shelf among other assorted frozen goods. Taking the shrink wrapped food item he tore it open and turned to the microwave. Taking a plate from the cabinet above the counter he placed the frozen piece of beef on it and covered it with paper towel. Closing the microwave he pushed a series of buttons and it fired up and began cooking his meal.


“Wish I could find some new clothes. These are beginning to smell horrid. The blood has got to be at least a day or two old.” He said examining his torn and bloodied clothing.


“I also need to think about reforming my armor as soon as I can stand straight. If a battle starts in my current condition it's going to be heavily in favor of the opposition. Doesn't mean I won't give em hell.”


Hopping onto the counter next to the microwave oven he rested his head against the cabinet door and closed his eyes letting the smell of his cooking food arouse his hunger.