Welcome To the Arena!!!

[Sum of All Fears]

The Arena is inside a much larger structure. How much larger you are unsure. It seems to be made specifically for the Arena. As you approach the Arena there are two distinct entrances. One for spectators and one for participants. Bright signs welcome you to the Arena. Flashing in every conceivable language the strobe effect seems to give a friendly air to the outside of the Arena. The different colors provide an artificial warmth to the area.

For participants once you arrive at reception, you find a beautiful human girl is there to greet you. Her name tape flashes in different languages for a moment but eventually settles on your primary language. It reads: “Abby”.

No matter your native language she seems to unerringly speak to you in your native tongue, ”Welcome to the Arena. Please fill out these forms. List all abilities and annotate all equipment you wish to use during your participation in the Arena. Please note any items used that were not previously identified will result in your immediate forfeit.” Her smile never dies, her voice rings like a bell through a cold morning.

Post Equipment and character sheet here.

This thread if for any RP you wish to conduct in or around the Arena.

[Sum of All Fears]

The registration process is quite efficient. Once you grab the forms most of your information fills itself out for you. Only a few details need to be entered manually. Namely any names or aliases you wish to use during your time in the arena. Upon handing the form back to the receptionist, she graces you with a warm smile. ”Thank you for your participation in the first tournament of the Megaversal Arena. Please continue through the hall and best of luck to you.” She leaves you with a slight bow as you depart.

The hall past reception feels inviting with the swirls of colored metal creating a near entrancing corridor, broken up by halfmoon cutouts along both sides of the walls every few feet. 4 foot marble pedestals sit empty in the cutouts awaiting something. 15 foot ornate, multi-colored, metal doors with silver inlays open for you on their own accord. The doors reveal a sports bar of modern aesthetic. Holo-screens are everywhere, bathing the places in different levels of lights as they shift with the action.

The bar seems to have two distinct sections. One has a sign for patrons and is quite full. The other is completely empty, but shows a sign for “Contenders”. The lone bartender spots you and waves you over. Seems he was expecting you. He seems to be an average human on the better looking side. His brown hair and brown eyes are easily forgettable along with the rest of his features. Yet his demeanor is warm and inviting. Almost unnaturally so. ”Welcome to the Contenders Bar. Please have a seat. What can I get for you? Anything you can think of we can serve. You can feel free to speak with the other Contenders before or during matches you are not partaking in.” His name tape, like the receptionist, cycles through various languages, until it stops in your native language to read, “Paul”. Paul motions to the Contenders area. As you take a good look there are half a dozen large sofas, a raised seating area with 12 tall stools, and the bar area itself that looks to be able to seat 30 people of various sizes. ”Please make sure you are able to locate your name on this board, Paul motions behind him to the large screens above him in the middle of the bar, ”This is where all the information for you Contenders will be posted.” Without looking he motions again and the screens change to show a bracket. ”Oh I guess they made this year a double elimination. That's good fans will get more action with less Contenders. Seems like you have about twenty minutes before the first bout. What can I get you?”

[Shazbut]

Shazbut isn't certain how he got to this strange place, but he feels he's in deep space once again. Is this some kind of memory I'm reliving?

Once past reception and a strange registration process he finds himself admiring the hall, with all its swirling metal colours and marble. Those present observe a little four foot skunk walking into the room, mouth agape and his eyes everywhere. He kind of looks like a reject from a Pokemon film.

Soon enough he passes into the sports bar where his theory of reliving some past event is blown out of the water. He lets out a squeal of delight as he spots a familiar face.

"Eve?" the skunk practically sings, spotting the angel. He waves a greeting and hurries up to her. "So this isn't the past I'm reliving then?" He then spots other Omegas milling about. He spends a few minutes getting his bearings, and offers up a new theory.

He asks Eve, "Oh I know now! This is the Hades place where you and the others had to fight for freedom yes?" His eyes widen as he spots Chief Icky. Wow a Minotaur! The Minotaur? He recalls Eve's tale of battling a Minotaur and worse in Hades.

"Oh look! There's the minotaur you told me about! You going to kick his butt again Eve?"

After some discussions, presumably the skunk comes to understand what this place is. Heh heh.

His name tape, like the receptionist, cycles through various languages, until it stops in your native language to read, “Paul”. Paul motions to the Contenders area. As you take a good look there are half a dozen large sofas, a raised seating area with 12 tall stools, and the bar area itself that looks to be able to seat 30 people of various sizes.

"Well I always wanted to be a Contender, and now I guess I lives to regret it," the skunk observes, wondering how he can get everyone out of this place. Did I sign up for this? This another dream, like the one with Barricade's salami assault squad? Big downside of being amnesiac, I no remember how many forms I signed before coming to the Earth.

He spots the well-stocked bar, and his spirits immediately improve. "oooOOO munchies!" He hurries off.

”Please make sure you are able to locate your name on this board, Paul motions behind him to the large screens above him in the middle of the bar, ”This is where all the information for you Contenders will be posted.” Without looking he motions again and the screens change to show a bracket. ”Oh I guess they made this year a double elimination. That's good fans will get more action with less Contenders. Seems like you have about twenty minutes before the first bout. What can I get you?”

Shazbut squints at the board, observing that he is not scheduled to fight in the first round. He notices one different between himself and all the others. His blood momentarily boils.

"Hey what is this? Why am I the second tier?" he glances about, looking for their bizarre host. "Paul! PAUL!" His voice is louder than a being his size ought to be.

"What kind of place is this? Why I second? Is it ... is it because I'm black?!"

[Calvin_Wallace]

Calvin materializes just before the contenders entrance.

"Fucking taoist deities and their fucking senses of humor... "OH IF YOU LOSE YOU'LL HAVE TO TRAIN MORE... TRAIN MORE WUFAN, INDEED, YOUR SON HAS TO TRAIN MORE", "OH Brother Quan, where should my son train more?". "OH THE BATTLE ARENA OF COURSE""

"So of course, Dad thought it was a good idea for me to spar with Guan Di's eldest son. Of course I lost. That motherless mother fucker is three thousand years old. And of course they made a side bet of it. Now I have to endure this thing without complaining."

"It's been five years since I left the order of the White Rose to end up in a boat halfway around the world, and finally when I thought I would be vacationing with my dad, he couldn't wait two weeks before deciding it was time again for me to go to work. Couldn't we just go and adventure and I get good from watching and practicing with my dad, why this way?"

Calvin approaches the gate and waves to Abby. They speak as old acquaintances:

"Hey Abby, thanks for having me. No, it's just me this time. I'm contending."

"I walk through and head to Paul right? Oh this way. Off I go then. Thanks again."

Calvin looks down, sees his garb and his gear. "Well I've went into a warzone with less. Let's just make this a worthwhile pedagogical experience."

Sauntering towards the bar, he enters the part where it is labelled "Contenders" and sits down at the bar near "Paul".

"Hey Paul, can I have a rice wine martini over a crushed ice?"

As the drink arrives, Cal cracks his neck side to side and tries to enjoy this moment of solitude. He scans the room and notices a large skunk like being, speaking English. Said skunk apparently recognizes other people, although Calvin has no idea who they are. Said Skunk mentions that the Angelic looking Lady has been fighting in Hades and has bested a minotaur. Turning to the Minotaur, Cal starts gingerly sizing up the room.

"Oh brother. I am so hosed.". Looking up at the competition bracket, he sees that he has Eve the first round. Having just identified Eve, looking at the disproportionately large swords and shield she has with her, he just grumbles. "Meleeist. Probably can close really fast. Incredibly fast. Probably disarmingly charming and courteous."

Calvin finishes his drink and walks over to the Skunk.

"Hey buddy, how are you doing? Which one are you in the second round? Are you the Guardian or Shazbut"

[Steiblah]

Diminutive, skinny, brown-tabby furred humanoid with the kitten head of a lynx or housecat. 4 ft tall.

Ever curious, Steiblah finds himself intrigued by the trappings of the arena he now finds himself. His gaze lopes about, falling regularly on the grand architecture. Though unequipped with formal training on spatial constructs, he can't help but wonder if there is more than meets the eye to their surroundings.

Contender? he thinks to himself quietly as he files into the Contender's Bar.

”Please make sure you are able to locate your name on this board, Paul motions behind him to the large screens above him in the middle of the bar, ”This is where all the information for you Contenders will be posted.” Without looking he motions again and the screens change to show a bracket. ”Oh I guess they made this year a double elimination. That's good fans will get more action with less Contenders. Seems like you have about twenty minutes before the first bout. What can I get you?”

"Paul." Steiblah acknowledges with a nod after the bartender's spiel. The Raksasha spares the board a quick glance before nabbing a bowl of snacking nuts and lying down on one of the sofas. Like an otter, he sets the bowl on his belly and carefully picks through them as discussion plays out around him. He focuses his attention on the holo-screens that are showing existing sports matches. Unless directly addressed, he tries to assess how the arena is laid out such that the cameras can capture the different angles of the matches.

((Intelligence. d%: [42] = 42 | 95% ))

[Eve]

Eve registers quickly and finds the entire process not unlike other earthly tournaments she had entered in the past. She is dressed in her Omega suit, but also wears a white silken armband around her sword-arm. Upon is it painted a

of her dojo in Century Station.

She sits at the bar, drinking a glass of cool water, and looks about at the holo-screens and potential opponents. This will be unlike anything I have faced before.

He lets out a squeal of delight as he spots a familiar face.

"Eve?" the skunk practically sings, spotting the angel. He waves a greeting and hurries up to her. "So this isn't the past I'm reliving then?" He then spots other Omegas milling about. He spends a few minutes getting his bearings, and offers up a new theory.

He asks Eve, "Oh I know now! This is the Hades place where you and the others had to fight for freedom yes?" His eyes widen as he spots Chief Icky. Wow a Minotaur! The Minotaur? He recalls Eve's tale of battling a Minotaur and worse in Hades.

"Oh look! There's the minotaur you told me about! You going to kick his butt again Eve?"

Acknowledging Shazbut's arrival with a polite nod, she smiles at the skunk's exuberance. "No, this is not the same minotaur I met in Hades. That fellow is better armed with technology and looks far more intelligent and dangerous. We are in esteemed company today it seems."

"Hey what is this? Why am I the second tier?" he glances about, looking for their bizarre host. "Paul! PAUL!" His voice is louder than a being his size ought to be.

"What kind of place is this? Why I second? Is it ... is it because I'm black?!"

The angel laughs, shaking her golden head. "I've only seen you fight once Shazbut, and that is enough to know that they've put you second as a kindness to us all." She recalls the gigantic trash monster exploding into a thousand pieces when the strange skunk used his gravity waves from within his body to rip him apart. "You should be honored." Guardian's name is there also, if I survive the first encounter I will have to face him next. None of this will be easy.

She looks left and right, trying to divine who Calvin might be.

Calvin finishes his drink and walks over to the Skunk.

"Hey buddy, how are you doing? Which one are you in the second round? Are you the Guardian or Shazbut"

Eve looks over the strange being curiously, and leaves it to the skunk to identify himself. However she answers for the former. Bowing slightly in greeting, the angel says, "Guardian is hulking bearded man who hasn't arrived yet as far as I can see. I fought with him in the Hades Hall of Judgement not long ago." With a smile she adds, "When he comes you'll know it."

Spotting Steiblah at the bar, she calls out, "Welcome to the tournament. I was wondering if I would see you here."

[Shazbut]

The angel laughs, shaking her golden head. "I've only seen you fight once Shazbut, and that is enough to know that they've put you second as a kindness to us all." She recalls the gigantic trash monster exploding into a thousand pieces when the strange skunk used his gravity waves from within his body to rip him apart. "You should be honored."

"Ah you really think?" the skunk blinks in surprise. "Hrmm maybe I should act tougher? I can be the badass if you like."

Calvin finishes his drink and walks over to the Skunk.

"Hey buddy, how are you doing? Which one are you in the second round? Are you the Guardian or Shazbut"

"Watch this.." he whispers to Eve, as the demigod approaches. Shazbut looks up at the golden haired chimpanzee, grinning evilly. He really remind me of a song back home. Could it be about this one I wonders? I ask him after this.

He feigns a frown, and warps his

Vocalisation power: can modulate voice to sound deeper.. woah baby.

and says in an impossibly deep voice for one so small, _{"I am The Shazbut, and I will break every bone in your body... bathe in your blood.. mMMMMmmm yes, with scented candles, a bottle of whisky and a really good loofah! BWAHAHAHA!"}

Allowing for an uncomfortable pause to descend, he breaks the silence with a chuckle in his regular skunky tone of voice. "Haha! Yes welcome to the funhouse! I am Shazbut, and you must be either Mr Calvin or a Chief Icky. Which is it?" He points to an empty chair invitingly, "Come come! I no see the name of the list, but you really look to me to be a famous legend back where I come from. You know of Sun Wukong? Maybe that is you! I not know legend very good, but I know his theme song!"

He jumps up on the bar, and points to Calvin, serenading him in his very own theme song!

"♫ Born from an egg on a mountain top
The punkiest monkey that ever popped
He knew every magic trick under the sun
To tease the Gods
And everyone and have some fun♫

♫Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic ooo♫

♫What a cocky saucy monkey this one is
All the Gods were angered
And they punished him
Until he was saved by a kindly priest
And that was the start
Of their pilgrimage west♫"

While talking and singing, the skunk carefully scopes out the aura of the minotaur and monkey-man using his

When face to face with a supernatural being Shazbut can learn whether it is good, selfish or evil, and if the supernatural creature is weak (Lesser), strong (Greater), powerful (Lord), or mega-powerful (a deity or Alien Intelligence). Can also know if it is a supernatural being in disguise.

.

When he finishes, he yells mirthfully at the bartender, "Hey! Get the Monkey King a bottle of whatever he wants!" Turning to Calvin, his eyes are full of wonder, "Are you really The Monkey King? Is that legend true?"

[Calvin_Wallace]

(Rolls Held Over)

He feigns a frown, and warps his and says in an impossibly deep voice for one so small, "I am The Shazbut, and I will break every bone in your body... bathe in your blood.. mMMMMmmm yes, with scented candles, a bottle of whisky and a really good loofah! BWAHAHAHA!"

Allowing for an uncomfortable pause to descend, he breaks the silence with a chuckle in his regular skunky tone of voice. "Haha! Yes welcome to the funhouse! I am Shazbut, and you must be either Mr Calvin or a Chief Icky. Which is it?" He points to an empty chair invitingly, "Come come! I no see the name of the list, but you really look to me to be a famous legend back where I come from. You know of Sun Wukong? Maybe that is you! I not know legend very good, but I know his theme song!"

He jumps up on the bar, and points to Calvin, serenading him in his very own theme song!

"♫ Born from an egg on a mountain top
The punkiest monkey that ever popped
He knew every magic trick under the sun
To tease the Gods
And everyone and have some fun♫

♫Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic
Monkey magic, Monkey magic ooo♫

♫What a cocky saucy monkey this one is
All the Gods were angered
And they punished him
Until he was saved by a kindly priest
And that was the start
Of their pilgrimage west♫"


While talking and singing, the skunk carefully scopes out the aura of the minotaur and monkey-man using his .

When he finishes, he yells mirthfully at the bartender, "Hey! Get the Monkey King a bottle of whatever he wants!" Turning to Calvin, his eyes are full of wonder, "Are you really The Monkey King? Is that legend true?"

Calvin manages a weak grin while embarassingly clutching the back of his head.

"Oh Mr. Shazbut, you shouldn't have... That was entirely too forward of you."

"My name is Calvin Wallace. Sun Wukong is, in my world, the deity that governs all primates. In the sense that we belong to the same pantheon, we are kin. But I am no deity. I am but a humble combat medic."

Calvin eyes painfully at Paul the bartender, holding up both hands in front of him while gently shaking his head.

"My man, I've had my drink already. Please just get me a glass of water."

Regaining his composure, Calvin takes a quick breath through his nose and attempts to gingerly wind down expectations.

"The theme song does hit some of the high notes of his excellency's origin. But as far as I can tell, nowadays he means well and is focusing most of his efforts to fighting demonic forces in various dimensions. He's on very good terms with the Buddah and the rivalry between him and the two other disciples of the kindly priest have settled into a very close friendship."

Turning to Eve, he says:

"Miss Eve, nice to make your acquaintance. I've never been to Hades before, some of my more senior compatriots have fought Deevils and minor Demons, but I am generally the practice dummy within my cohort."

Looking at his glass of water, Calvin turns on 'See Aura' (-6 ISP) and slowly buzzes the room.

"Eve, lower experienced unknown human aberration, talked about fighting a minotaur by herself, Shazbut believes her."
"Shazbut, middle level experienced mutant animal, Eve seems in awe of its power."
"The minotaur over there, well he's experienced and he's magical alright... and psionically capable, and that's a big fucking rifle too."
"That cat over there certainly looks off. Holy hell, that's a lot of magical power and its a psychic too!"
"And they speak of this Guardian glowingly."
"At least nobody here is evil. Being tortured for fun wouldn't be an enabling pedagogical experience."

Finally, he says dryly:
"Well, everyone looks so incredibly competent... This is going to be an incredible opportunity for personal growth."

[Steiblah]

Spotting Steiblah at the bar, she calls out, "Welcome to the tournament. I was wondering if I would see you here."

"Eve," Steiblah acknowledges with a tip of his hat. "Looks like we are going to answer the question none of us asked... 'Which among us would win in a fight between ourselves.'" The Raksasha pops a macadamia into his mouth. Quality snacks for the contenders though. Need to weigh whether it is worthwhile to fill up prior to a fight.

"Seems perhaps not the best measure of maximal combat capability." Steiblah gestures at the crusader, "Take you for example... I would argue that your fighting style is optimized against fighting supernatural evil. And so your effectiveness may be blunted in combat against your moral kin."

This sort of competition was fairly common among my former demonic brethren. Combat was a meter by which strength and cunning could be measured. It therefore seems in stark contrast to what I should be trying to do as a "Good Guy". This will be a difficult issue to reconcile. Avoiding ruthlessness will likely be key. And I should mentally prepare to voluntarily lose also.

The Raksasha himself seems ill at ease despite trying to put on airs of nonchalance. He is far from bloodthirsty and seems uncomfortable with the sport he is a 'contender' in. In fact, rather than sizing up his opponents, his time is spent trying to learn more about their surroundings. Possibly with the intention of masterminding an escape or somehow disrupting the status quo.

[Chef Icky]

"Sarge, What in da Seven Hells have we gotten ourselves into?" And why don't I remember signing up for this? Not that this would be the first time something like this happened to me. But this isn't some tour of duty around the five fire rings of Fornax.

Icky pulls off his helmet and tucks it underneath his arm as he wanders around the foyer and inevitably winds up at the receptionist desk.

”Thank you for your participation in the first tournament of the Megaversal Arena. Please continue through the hall and best of luck to you.” She leaves you with a slight bow as you depart.

"Uhm... okay den. Cheers." He wanders down the hall and into the bar, finally noticing the "Contenders" section. A bar. Finally, something that doesn't feel out of place here. He walks up to the group already assembled and gives them a nod. "Oi, how ya doin? I'm guessin' all o' ya don't remember signin' up for dis either?" he adds with a smirk as he taps his chest. "By way o' introductions, da name's Iktinos -- former Warlock Marine, head chef on board da Dime Store Magic, an' priest o' Dionysus. Friends call me Icky. Pleeztameetcha."

”Welcome to the Contenders Bar. Please have a seat. What can I get for you? Anything you can think of we can serve. You can feel free to speak with the other Contenders before or during matches you are not partaking in.” His name tape, like the receptionist, cycles through various languages, until it stops in your native language to read, “Paul”. Paul motions to the Contenders area. As you take a good look there are half a dozen large sofas, a raised seating area with 12 tall stools, and the bar area itself that looks to be able to seat 30 people of various sizes. ”Please make sure you are able to locate your name on this board, Paul motions behind him to the large screens above him in the middle of the bar, ”This is where all the information for you Contenders will be posted.” Without looking he motions again and the screens change to show a bracket. ”Oh I guess they made this year a double elimination. That's good fans will get more action with less Contenders. Seems like you have about twenty minutes before the first bout. What can I get you?”

"Oi, chum, start me off wit' a bottle o' yer best red wine an' a pitcher o' yer best lager..." He says as he sets his helmet on the bar and turns his attention back to the other contestants. "Alright, ya mugs, bring me yer glasses -- I figure we might as well become friends 'fore we try ta kill each other like civilized people, y'know?"

He'll fill anyone's glass with wine or lager (their choice) before holding up the wine bottle. "Dere. 'Ere's ta 'Big D,' wherever he's at -- hope he enjoys da show. Anyone else got someone or somethin' dey wanna drink to? An' which one o' ya is dis 'Steiblah' fella I gotta scrap wit' first?"

[Steiblah]

"An' which one o' ya is dis 'Steiblah' fella I gotta scrap wit' first?"

Steiblah's ears twitch in Icky's direction as he hears his name mentioned. He sits somewhat more upright in the large sofa he had been using as a plush bed. Stray nuts tumble from his chest, suggesting an otter-like adoption of snack consumption.

"I am Steiblah," he says plainly, raising his hand to further indicate self-identification.

Upon seeing the Space Minotaur Warlock Marine fully armored in a Deevil-corrupted power-armor, the reformed Raksasha demon snaps to his feet. ((Lore: Demon/Monster. d%: [94] = 94 | 104%)) Could it be? Is the outer shell of what that bovine wears infused with Deevil magic?

"Quite the choice of armament you have. Stylish, trend-setting, and speaks volumes for your love of goats." Steiblah smirks slightly as he nods at the PA's deevil legs. "I suspect you've quite the powerful ally in combat. But I am struck with a curiosity at what price you may have paid (or perhaps will pay in the future) for the creature comforts you currently enjoy."

Despite his reformation, Steiblah can't help but engage in the age-old ribbing between Demon/Deevil-kind. His words are slicked like taunts, but perhaps more restrained than an outright put-down.

[Calvin_Wallace]

Calvin watches the exchange from Steiblah and Chef Icky from afar.

This exchange ought to be interesting.

The way the magical cat is talking about the minotaur's armor: "what price you may have paid for the creature comforts you currently enjoy." is it a jeer or a point of caution? Is there something wrong with the armor? It doesn't matter, point of caution or not, whatever happens here stays here.

Pretending to be non-chalant, Calvin turns to Eve and Shazbut and says:

"Well, this is one of those tournaments where win or lose, the fatalities aren't final. How'd you find yourselves here?"

[Chef Icky]

"I am Steiblah," he says plainly, raising his hand to further indicate self-identification.

Icky's eyebrows raise up when he realizes his first opponent is a 4' tall furry felinoid. You gotta be kidding me. You're as tiny as Metri is. As he ponders a bit further, he shrugs. And Metri's one of your most powerful crewmates... so don't judge on size. "Alright den, Fuzzy, bring yer glass over 'ere an' I'll top ya off. What's yer poison?"

"Quite the choice of armament you have. Stylish, trend-setting, and speaks volumes for your love of goats." Steiblah smirks slightly as he nods at the PA's deevil legs. "I suspect you've quite the powerful ally in combat. But I am struck with a curiosity at what price you may have paid (or perhaps will pay in the future) for the creature comforts you currently enjoy."

If Steiblah's hoping to get a rise out of his impending opponent, Icky's reaction of a chuckle may come as a bit of a surprise. "Oi, ya gettin' saucy already, eh? I may wind up likin' ya yet." He taps one of his goaty-looking legs. "It's a long story, chum, but da nutshell is dat I fergot da number one rule o' da Warlock Marines: 'a Marine's best friend is his armor'. Da first time I dumped off ol' Sarge 'ere, he got stolen an' corrupted by deevils -- an' 'bout near corrupted me too in da process -- and da second time I dumped him off, da whole U-Dub-Dub consulate in Center got trashed by demons lookin' fer it." He takes an enormous swig from the wine bottle. "Anyway... I ain't leavin' Sarge behind no more. I'm gonna get him to somebody in da Warlock Marines dat can purge da corruption so he can be whole again, an' if I gotta leave a trail o' thrillin' heroics from 'ere to Da Smithy, wherever da frell 'here' is, den so be it."

[Steiblah]

"Alright den, Fuzzy, bring yer glass over 'ere an' I'll top ya off. What's yer poison?"

"It's, uh, 'Furball'," Steiblah responds reflexively, inwardly cursing the impact Jeremy's words have already made on his sense of self-identity. Gesturing for the bartender to produce a glass, he answers Icky, "Cranberry seltzer, please."

"It's a long story, chum, but da nutshell is dat I fergot da number one rule o' da Warlock Marines: 'a Marine's best friend is his armor'. Da first time I dumped off ol' Sarge 'ere, he got stolen an' corrupted by deevils -- an' 'bout near corrupted me too in da process -- and da second time I dumped him off, da whole U-Dub-Dub consulate in Center got trashed by demons lookin' fer it." He takes an enormous swig from the wine bottle. "Anyway... I ain't leavin' Sarge behind no more. I'm gonna get him to somebody in da Warlock Marines dat can purge da corruption so he can be whole again, an' if I gotta leave a trail o' thrillin' heroics from 'ere to Da Smithy, wherever da frell 'here' is, den so be it."

'Warlock Marines', 'U-Dub-Dub' and 'Center'? Is this bipedal bovine a space minotaur?

The Raksasha daintily sips his seltzer through the tiny stirring straw as he assesses the minotaur's story for logical flaws. Finding none, he re-engages, "If your armor has an unwanted Deevil possession, I can attempt to exorcise or remove curse it if you'd like. It'll take some time and I'm not certain if the effects will last, but whatever the result, you'll have some more knowledge about the corruption than you had before."

Steiblah seems strangely nonchalant about expending such a tremendous amount of magical energy on the eve of their combat situation. Almost as if he either does not think he needs the excess PPE or he isn't particularly serious about defeating his opponents in the Arena.

[Shazbut]

The skunk's eye is drawn to the holo-screens as he scopes out the arena. I don't see any speakers.... do they have a booming soundtrack going during the matches?

"I wonder what the acoustics are like in there? Maybes I can find the arena announcer and get him to let me sing some rocking combat song while you all busy smashing one another?" He looks at Paul, "We get the music during these cage matches? I can beatbox and sing something fun for these guys."

"Well, this is one of those tournaments where win or lose, the fatalities aren't final. How'd you find yourselves here?"

"I haves no idea," Shazbut answers, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Eve you know? You got sucked into this kind of thing before with Guardian. This is the same deal yes?"

Glancing again at the screens, the little skunk muses out loud. "How they protect the audience? How destructive you think we can be? There's some things I never tried before because knocking apart buildings tends to hurt a lot of innocent people." His tone doesn't suggest exaggeration or threat, it's just said matter-of-factly as if he were discussing the weather.

Stenchbombs....... knives....... fun!

Seeing Guardian, he grins slyly. Well there's a strength boost... "I wonder if there's pillars or statues we can throw at one another?"

He looks a little giddy, and casts an evil glare about the other Contenders... as if some part deeply repressed urges to destroy within his mind threatens to come out and play. He unsheathes a little knife, twirling it between his fingers.

"You think we can go all out in this place? Bring it all down around our ears? Destruction? Devastation?" he blinks innocently. "Maybe they even allow bluegrass songs..."

While listening to various answers from Calvin and Eve, the skunk shifts his mimicry ability to each Contender in turn. He learns about any mimickable powers, strengths and weaknesses they might possess as he considers ways they might be taken apart. He tries not to think violent thoughts, normally he's the last fellow who would pick a fight, but there's something about this place that brings out the worst in him.

OOC Comments

Those being mimicked are powerless to prevent it. Note that the powers and physical essence of true supernatural beings, including vampires, spirits, entities, demons, gods and alien intelligences, cannot be mimicked. God-like superbeings and demigods are not (usually) true, supernatural gods. Affects Guardian and Eve at least :)

[Eve]

"Well, this is one of those tournaments where win or lose, the fatalities aren't final. How'd you find yourselves here?"

"I haves no idea," Shazbut answers, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Eve you know? You got sucked into this kind of thing before with Guardian. This is the same deal yes?"

Eve looks thoughtful a moment, then shakes her head. "No, this isn't the Court of the Underworld. There we were fighting to save Guardian's soul, and a number of others who were drawn into the portal that caught Jeremy and I. They called it the Rite of Enyalios."

"But this, I've no idea what it is." She drinks from a glass of water. It is too much like the trial at Hades to ignore, they may be related somehow, the judges may have enlisted us to fight here.

"It may be that the three-who-are-one, the judges whose champions we defeated in the Court of the Underworld, enlisted us. It does explain why so many Omegas are here. Perhaps we have gotten their attention? They may want payback, but that seems unlike them. Perhaps simple entertainment? No, I think not. Perhaps all this is practice before our next challenge on Earth."

She looks about, "Steiblah, Guardian, you and I. That's four, which is also the number of us fighting that fought in the Rite of Enyalios. Coincidence? I doubt it."

"You think we can go all out in this place? Bring it all down around our ears? Destruction? Devastation?" he blinks innocently. "Maybe they even allow bluegrass songs..."

"I'll take the destruction before the bluegrass," Eve volunteers. "Looks to me like this place is no stranger to duels. I doubt the spectators, even if they are real, are in any danger from what we might do."

[Calvin_Wallace]

Eve looks thoughtful a moment, then shakes her head. "No, this isn't the Court of the Underworld. There we were fighting to save Guardian's soul, and a number of others who were drawn into the portal that caught Jeremy and I. They called it the Rite of Enyalios."

...

She looks about, "Steiblah, Guardian, you and I. That's four, which is also the number of us fighting that fought in the Rite of Enyalios. Coincidence? I doubt it."

"I'll take the destruction before the bluegrass," Eve volunteers. "Looks to me like this place is no stranger to duels. I doubt the spectators, even if they are real, are in any danger from what we might do."

Pondering a bit, Cal finally responds:

"Y'all been up against something that has taken form and organized through the ages. My foes are by and large local militias that have been called to help plunder and harvest the local population. Competent and otherwise thoroughly evil, but that seems to be garden variety depravity by comparison."

"Regardless, I think this is a reprieve from all that. Look at you, Mr. Shazbut and Mr. Steiblah over yonder; you are all just wanting to stretch your abilities in a manner that you haven't had the opportunity to do before. It seems like we should take this opportunity as what it is, we should work on things we never get the chance to work on. Let's be real, when it comes to fighting, there's no such thing as rising to the occasion, we only rise to the limits of our training."

"And if Mr. Steiblah is gonna succeed, Chef Icky's gonna turn all this into a drinking contest anyway."

Muttering to himself, Calvin motions to the bartender and asks for the control console for their juke box...

"Let's just see just how omnipotent these tourney organizers are... BLUE GRASS"

[Chef Icky]

"If your armor has an unwanted Deevil possession, I can attempt to exorcise or remove curse it if you'd like. It'll take some time and I'm not certain if the effects will last, but whatever the result, you'll have some more knowledge about the corruption than you had before."

Icky raises an eyebrow. Either 'Furball' here is a genuine supercheese like Starchief or he thinks he can slip in an ulterior motive while pretending to help. But that's no small effort he's offering. He eventually gives a nod.

"Oi, chum, dat's right neighborly o' ya. It's unwanted, alright, an' I aim ta get it evicted at da earliest opportunity... but dere's a few... complications at da moment." Icky shakes his head. "Again, it's a long story but as much as I don't like da thought o' dis Deevil hauntin' Sarge it's helpin' keep somethin' secure at da moment. So it's what ya might call a 'necessary evil' -- literally -- until I can get dat sorted out."

A grin returns to his massive muzzle. "But I appreciate da offer. Maybe if we meet up on da other side o' all dis an' I can get everything sorted out, I may take ya up on it."

[Sum of All Fears]

Paul ensures the drinks flow for the duration of your stay. During the conversation he speaks up only once as he looks to his watch. "Hehehe. I'm surprised by you all. Contenders here are all volunteers. Consciously or unconsciously, you all volunteered to be here. Paul continues while wiping down a glass behind the counter, "Either way doesn't really matter now. Ya'll are here and your fights are about to begin. Please brace yourselves. Those about to fight will be teleported in a moment." Paul's smile is warm and reassuring as first four wink out of the room, leaving Shazbut and Guardian alone in the bar.

The first four to fight find themselves in an empty black area. With a 2 minute counter hovering in front of them. You are in your on individual areas. Seems as though the organizers have segregated the Contenders so they can prepare.
--Eve, Chief Icky, Steibleh, and Calvin please PM me two prep-actions. You may reply to only the portion prior to your teleport.

Shazbut and Guardian suddenly find themselves alone in the bar. Before silence takes over completely, the screens flicker to two different fields. Half the screens show a forested area covered in heavy snow, the other is the polar opposite showing a volcanic hellscape with narrow paths in-between the bubbling lava. The screens flash as the arena's emblem spirals into frame and the announcers begin their broadcast.

The first…thing… that is visible is what can only be described as a beholder. It wears a tie to look like it’s dressed up for the occasion. Next to it sits what looks like an average early teen human male with messy brown hair. In one of its tentacles the beholder raises a mic to its mouth area. "Good Daaaayyyyy, Megaverse! Welcome to live coverage of the first ever Megaversal Arena Championships! I'm Gin Kay and with me today is the ever eccentric TwiZZ! Twizz how are you today?" The beholder’s voice comes in the level tones one would expect from a seasoned sports announcer. It’s a little disconcerting.

"We're just great Ginny! Thanks for having me today. We can't wait for the slaughter to begin. Seems like a light field for this first go around, but what can you do? Maybe next time we should look into kidnapping our contestants. We think we speak for everyone watching when we say WE want more bloodshed!" The boy’s eyes light up at the talk of more bloodshed.

"That is an interesting perspective you have there TwiZZ. Now let's take a look at the first group of Contenders.” The hellscape now has a semi-transparent overlay of Calvin on the left and Eve on the right. ”Look at this TwiZZ, one of our first contenders is a bonafide demi-god. Lets not get on his bad side shall we?
”I told you Gin. That was one time and I cleaned up the room when I was finished.”
”I think the point was for them to fight on screen, not for you to atomize them off camera, because you felt slighted.”
”Well…those demi-gods always have such a high opinion of themselves, someone needed to drop them a peg. And really. What god can’t take a little love tap.” TwiZZ winks to the camera as Gin lets out an exasperated sigh.
”Back to the matchups…
”Yes. Gin. The matchups…what’s taking so long?” Gin looks at TwiZZ as TwiZZ seems to have forgotten he was the one to derail the conversation.
”Calvin brings magic and psionics to the fight along with enhanced physical abilities, but will that be enough to overcome his opponent, the self proclaimed Hero Eve! We actually have many from the ranks of Hero’s participating this year. Lets see how they stack up.” Gin takes a breath,
”In the other match we have the Magic Cat and hero demon, facing off with the only participant from Phase World…Chief Icky! Hailing from PWs very own Galactic Adventurers Chief Icky has been the anvil to Starchief’s hammer.
”I do like hammers Gin. Anyone using any this match?”
”No TwiZZ. No hammers.”
”I’ll have to change that next time.” TwiZZ seems to look off screen for a few moments as Gin looks at the camera without missing a beat.
”Alright here we go. Time for the fights!”

”Who’s ready for a FIGHT!!!!!!!” TwiZZ screams so loud it causes a slight feedback in the sound system.

[Steiblah]

A grin returns to his massive muzzle. "But I appreciate da offer. Maybe if we meet up on da other side o' all dis an' I can get everything sorted out, I may take ya up on it."

"No expiration date on the offer. Just let me know." Steiblah confirms to the massive marine.

A necessary evil? The Raksasha thinks to himself as images of many 'necessary evils' that have crossed his path flash through his mind. I may get a front seat view of this necessary evil if I push him into a challenging position during this match.

Then, as the bartender begins announcing their imminent departure to combat, it occurs to Steiblah that he is unaware of any explicit rules of engagement or terms of victory for this match.

Paul ensures the drinks flow for the duration of your stay. During the conversation he speaks up only once as he looks to his watch. "Hehehe. I'm surprised by you all. Contenders here are all volunteers. Consciously or unconsciously, you all volunteered to be here. Paul continues while wiping down a glass behind the counter, "Either way doesn't really matter now. Ya'll are here and your fights are about to begin. Please brace yourselves. Those about to fight will be teleported in a moment."

"Oh yea, hey, what are the ru..." Steiblah begins, but is cut off with his sudden disappearance.

[Shazbut]

"Oh yea, hey, what are the ru..." Steiblah begins, but is cut off with his sudden disappearance.

The skunk raises his eyebrows as the contenders vanish rather suddenly. He answers Steiblah, even though he is no longer present to hear it.

"No rules," replies a smirking skunk. "Only the rule of the jungle. Anything goes!"

He watches the holoscreens with rising interest as the commentary goes on. He finds himself getting caught up in the hype.

”Who’s ready for a FIGHT!!!!!!!” TwiZZ screams so loud it causes a slight feedback in the sound system.

"YES!!" he cries out in a deeply magnified voice that shakes the screens.

He yells urgently at the bar, "Paul! I need the popcorn and lots of it!" With an evil grin, he settles down into a seat. A huge bag of salty buttered popped corn is in his hands. A smile on his lips. And his eyes eagerly await the destruction to commence.

This is the best show ever!

[Chef Icky]

Paul ensures the drinks flow for the duration of your stay. During the conversation he speaks up only once as he looks to his watch. "Hehehe. I'm surprised by you all. Contenders here are all volunteers. Consciously or unconsciously, you all volunteered to be here. Paul continues while wiping down a glass behind the counter, "Either way doesn't really matter now. Ya'll are here and your fights are about to begin. Please brace yourselves. Those about to fight will be teleported in a moment." Paul's smile is warm and reassuring as first four wink out of the room, leaving Shazbut and Guardian alone in the bar.

"Heh, wouldn't be da first time I 'volunteered' fer somethin' an' don't remember it later..." Icky chuckles as he sets down the wine bottle, picks up his helmet and locks it into place. He gives Steiblah one last salute. "Oi, Fuzzball, guess I'll see ya on da other side. We can--"

The words hang invisibly in the air as Icky suddenly disappears.