TBNES - Tournament

[SKILORD]

The man kept staring at his leather trenchcoat, Raul wondered why, but imagined that he had seen it when Raul had been giving a demonstration to a crowd of eager spectators of his "turn the entire trenchcoat into a solid piece of diamond" trick. Of course, it would be pointless for Raul to always wear the trenchcoat like that, a little unwieldly and burdensome for someone who could just as easily will it back to leather.

"It sounds interesting, but it seems like a strange way to do it," Raul replies.

The other man shrugs, for a moment Raul wonders if he is a contestant as well, he didn't have a lot of the flash of some of the others, but maybe he's just been hiding his skills, lurking around the spectators quietly, "It's how they do it, what about this hell isn't strange to you?"

Raul laughs, "Good point. I'll meet you there," and he pulls a lead slug out of his pocket, turning it to gold before he tosses it to the man, whoever he is.

If he is a contestant the rules are supposed to prevent this from being an ambush, but Raul does not have all that much faith, at most they could react and that would be too late to help him.

Raul taps his Mossberg SA-20 lovingly as he walks off trying to find any other fliers from last nights drop, wondering 'If that guy is a contestant, what sort of odds is he getting, are they better than 8:1?'

 

[Tycho]

Seymour padded around the central area of the amusement park, the massive ferris wheel looming above all else. A titanic hotel dominated this central area as well, it's shadow everpresent in the overcast day.

The escort had left him at the beginning of this area right here, smiling as he shrank back into the shadows. Seymour had been left alone to size up the competition at a distance, something that was rather good to do. A lot of these fellows where clumped together, milling about, strange weapons everywhere. They were referred to as "plasma" weapons, and quite a bit of them flashed as they were held in holsters by their side. If everyone here was going to kill each other, they already had an unfair advantage.

One of the contestents looked to be no older than ten or so, thin black hair and a generally dirty, street urchin look about him. If they were pulling in ten year olds to kill people, what did that mean for everyone here?

It was a different perspective when you realized plenty of people here would be happy to kill you in a heartbeat for the prize. For the first time, Seymour realized that maybe he wouldn't be leaving this place alive.

Well, if he wasn't going to come out of this smiling and laughing, he was going down with a fight. First, he would need some better weapons... knives would not just do on their own, especially on a guy that could transmute anything into diamond, and by default anything else of his choosing.

A cotton candy stand staffed by no one sat idly off to the side, the sweet hures of the sugary goodness smiling at him. For the first time in a long time, it looked like Seymour would feast tonight... and pretty sure he was going to make a total pig out of himself.

 

[Seon]

It's not too late to run...​

Welcome, Mr. Anderson. Welcome, Mr. Antifelix. Welcome, Mr. Fiddesworth and Seymour.

At first, I thought all would be okay​

My name is Galla. I shall be your guide instead of Mr. North.

But then the fragile world​

Here are the keys to your rooms.

that I stood upon cracked​

If you want anything for dinner later, please call me. We have chicken fomodoro, chicken parmasean, chicken marsala, chicken kebob, bowl of salad, and roasted chicken available to us for today.

No, shattered.​

I must apologize, but Mr. North was quite insistent with the menu.

I'm a monstrosity.​

Please call me later once you made your decision. I shall deliver your meal up to your room. It is all free of charge, of course.

Save yourselves​

 

[Optical]

Antifelix the Unlucky

That's odd... I would have bet on quail being on the menu as well...

 

[thomas.berubeg]

ooc: i'll update the first post at the latest tomorrow evening. I'm really happy to see the support that this NES has thanks, all

 

[Terrance888]

Well, if you are so unlucky, then the reason we have delectable quail or peasant is because of you!

I think I recognize you... Hm...

-Zachariah Anderson

 

[thomas.berubeg]

ooc: The First posts are updated!

Welcome, Welcome. The last of our contestants should be trickling in within the next few days... I'd like to get this tournament started soon. So, the last few of you who wish to register must do so within the next few days, or contact me personally. My office will be available to any who wish hard enough to find it.

ooc: We start on Wednesday, unless I get a number of appeals from people wishing to play.

 

[merciary]

ooc: I apologize for not posting sooner, the release of Skyrim and a paper on Marx ate up most of my free time.

Somewhere in a distant part of the Arena the air began to crackle and objects began to stir without cause. Without warning violent hole appeared out of the air and a brigth light began to pour from it. Following the light a strange hooded man came forth from this rip in space and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach on to ground.

After staggering back to his feet the man began to mutter to himself, "I swear after this last job I'm never letting that fool teleport me again, next time I'm finding my own way through things. Now where did that idiot send me this time?"

The man did a quick scan of his surroundings and looked quite perplexed at the amusement park scene before him. He walked over to a carnival game setup near him and inspect it closely. It gave him no answers, in fact it appear to confuse him even more.

""For the sake of the Divines it looked like he's sent me even further off course than usual. Looks like I'm going to have to find some poor fool to get my bearings here."

The man closed his eyes and began to concentrate trying to find another intelligent mind. after about a minute he found someone nearby that would work nicely. With only a few minutes of walking the hooded man approach a man in a uniform stacking some boxes.

"Excuse me I appear to be lost, could you help me?"

"Who's there no one else is authorized to be he..."

Before the uniformed man could finish his thought he was pinned to the wall by some invisible force that appeared to be coming from the hooded figures outstretched hand.

"Now don't move this won't take long.", with that the hooded man put his other hand on the uniformed man's head and closed his eyes once again."

After a few minutes the uniformed man dropped to the ground in a daze and the hooded man pace the room in obvious fury.

"Damn that accursed fool, he sent me to another plane entirely, who knows how long it will take for some to realize I never materialized or if they'll even care.", the man paced for a bit longer, "Well according to this man's memories there is some sort grand tournament going here, that might be my best way of getting home."

With his thoughts turning to the uniformed man, the hooded man turned back to him. The man now had a small pool of drool coming from his mouth and was gazing aimlessly around the room.

"Oh right sorry about that. You might have some mental damage as i had to go fairly deep to find out where I was and I was what you call gentle. Though I don't think anyone will miss you. I never answered you question did I? How rude, the name is Keder."

 

[KaiserElectric]

Can I still join this?

 

[Adrogans]

Yes..

 

[thomas.berubeg]

ooc: Yep. I'll be accepting signups until tomorrow (and maybe after, if I get asked for an extension)

 

[Terrance888]

It was almost midnight.

The Raul stood beside me, chewing on a lump of chicken. Berty stood on my hat as we stood under the Ferris Wheel (as that particular Vertigo-Torture device is known), waiting for the midnight chair lift. We were both tense; the Tournament is going to start the day after, barely 25 hours away. Although I don’t know if he knows or not, I assume that it will start either at Midnight, the crack of dawn, or after the 8:00 A.M Toast gets cleaned out by the Chaos in the Golden Masque.

Better be safe than sorry.

Over head, a sqeaky noice slowly approached as the Chairlift came closer. After studying it with Bertie, I’ve discovered that it hangs chairs instead of people, although the chairs themselves usually do hold people as well. We both strained our eyes under the dark clouds which obscured the moon. I, however, kept an eye on the Diamond man. Will he reveal some secret character trait or power? Will he eject disappointment or anger?

The beaten clock tower in the distance gonged as the dark shape passed over us.

One… two… three…

I watch the anticipation on his face.

Four… five.. six…

He seems to be almost reaching out for the chairlift with his gaze. Is he using his power on it? I do not know.

Seven… eight… nine…

He finally figured out nothing is going to happen. He shrunk, and slowly turned to look at me. I did not see his expression. I gave no sign of noticing him but kept of the charade, looking hopefully upward at the dark shape above us.

Ten… Wait. That isn’t a Chair!

…Eleven… That is a Printer Press!

…Twelve… With a sudden Whirr, it came to life, jerking Raul’s searching gaze before it reached my eyes. Gone was his emotion before I saw, or even glimpsed, it. Out came a snowstorm of pamphlets.
My mouth slacked open. The fates must be playing with me this night. “What in the name of the Eigth Circle of Hell” I whispered. Bertie seemed to chuckle on my shoulder.

One of them landed on my face. It said “Coupons coupons coupons! Redeem this coupon for five coupon coupons or for 1 chicken Kabob!”

Another landed in my hand, it said, “Chaos The Laughter
Adjf ioau↓∫₫tauio huiasd y8f∟∂† ẺẤۨږِظa stg ioahش٤
٪ִ a dfjka btka ћ ьЩеФtaiop uasd io fhэκІˆŭ ěĈď ěð
íHasduif ha Cﺞ aotioauﻮﻺ
?-1 for Chaos the Laughter.”

Bertie jumped off and started laughing again.

I chased him through the snowstorm of Coupon Coupon Coupons and Character Pamphlets. It’s his fault damn him.

Oh wait, this is already hell.

Bloody Hell.

 

[SKILORD]

"Goddamnit," Raul curses, looking at the odds for Chaos, no help, nothing on his pamphlet made any sense. In fact, none of these pamphlets made any sense, they were all written in the language of some bizarre dimension.

Fights start soon, Raul knows that, and he wonders if that strange Victorian man who even now was chasing his rabbit through a tornado of coupons knows that the time for battle is so close at hand. Raul picks up one of the coupons, he was loving the chicken kabobs, they were the only source of protein he had, and he's been spending nights doing push ups muttering "8 to 1 odds," wishing he had the money to put down on himself and panicking about the sort of competitors who could reduce his odds to that.

"Another Kabob?" the man at the counter asks when Raul hands him the coupon. Raul nods and takes it from the man, picking off the green peppers and eating them first.

Raul spends the whole walk to his room in nervous anticipation. How prepared is he, how well will he be able to adapt to these situations even with the shotgun, he stands at the ferris wheel waiting for the operator to bring his room down.

"Good luck in the morning, sir."

"Thanks," Raul mutters, barely acknowledging the words. Caught up in his own musings.

Inside he sits on his bed and tries to prepare himself. There are clothes in the room, provided by the contest. Raul pulls a hoodie out and stares at the names of the sponsors, proudly arrayed on the front and back.

Consolidated Fearscapes.

Candyland Truffles.

Protoplasm Liquidators.

He wonders what any of this means, whether any of these organizations was even real, their logos were all very intricate and well designed, but that didn't mean anything.

On the back he finds: The Christian Identity.

His eyes widen, he knows that organization was real, how had they tricked him into being here? What sort of anti-mutant angle were they playing? Is he supposed to be proving the combat inferiority of mutants? What is going on at home, if the Christian Identity is even reaching out here?

Raul takes a deep breath, it could be any Christian Identity in any dimension. He shouldn't let himself get so worked up. He has more important things to focus on.

The hoodie becomes a sheet of Kevlar mesh, flexible enough to keep on at all times, but a good first level protection.

He pulls off his trenchcoat and loads extra rounds and cartridges into the inside, although he thinks of the plasma and turns them all to water shots.

"8 to 1," he mutters under his breath, "Bastards."

He does the Kevlar trick to some long johns that he slides on under a pair of jeans just to make sure he can still walk. It's a start. Same for the top of his sneakers. Kevlar sneakers, he smiles, he can think of more than a few people who would love those.

He hadn't ever thought about combat this way before though, and now he was having all these ideas. Kevlar sneakers was not the least among them.

The hours on his clock had stopped getting bigger, 12 had turned to 1 and the recovery had begun. Raul tried to calm down once more, staring at the ceiling

 

[Optical]

Antifelix

...looked around his new quarters. They were far from as spartan as either the cell or the streets... there was a mattress on the bed, almost no fleas on the sheets. Life was good.

It'd be a shame it was fairly likely to end in the next couple of weeks.

The odds of his victory in the Tournament were, at least according to the bookies, 63 to 1 against. Antifelix was pretty sure he wouldn't get far. But the prize...

That was something that could change his life. At a stroke, Antifelix could go from being the world's most destitute beggar to one of the planet's richest men. That was worth 63-1 odds.

Just then, the door opened. A hand holding a plate poked through, and the attached voice murmured, in a monotone,

"Food. Eat."

 

[Blaze Injun]

Hey,

It was midnight and the park looked to be still in full swing. Rides, lights and patron's voices were going strong. But it was all muted by the fact that Kill Girl Miyabi had found a boarded off older section of the park. Beyond the weathered wooden wall lay a haunted vision of a amusement park. Wild weeds and bushes had overgrown rides and twisted trees had cracked the walkways. Canvas canopies were faded & torn. Once happy prizes were now decayed and rotting in game stalls.

Atop the widows watch of what she believed to be a old haunted mansion ride she found her place to sleep for the night. For the night was the wrong. Three hours was about all she would sleep. A side effect of surviving in a savage Ukabu Ika filled Tokyo.

"First things first, Akina." She said to the goldfish in its small bowl that she had won earlier in the day. She set it down and laid out her poncho. She took out the two braided metal cesti from her boot tops. They were Yankee Sun specials, able to tap into her bioelectric. Like brass knuckles with a electric mule kick. Miyabi sat down on her poncho and set them aside. Sitting spread legged she reached to her ankles and unzipped her thigh high boots from the bottom up. Once off she rolled down her red and yellow thigh high socks. "Now that's the stuff." Miyabi stretched out her legs wiggling her little painted toes.

"Any second now, Akina." With the scent of cinnamon in the air, her care package from home appeared before her. Change of clothes, small charcoal grill with charcoal, packages of sliced beef & veggies, fresh bottled water with towels and a note.

Greetings my dearest Kill Girl Miyabi,
I wish you all the luck that my position can afford. We are very proud of your commitment to this tournament. We know that you will do your best to honor the Kill Girl & with that The Yankee Suns.

Jet

"I sure will." She giggled as she held up the white leather jacket that had came. The Kill Girl's logo on the back with Atsui Hina scripted underneath.


KGM03

 

[thomas.berubeg]

We Will be starting tonight... It'd make life so much easier for us if there were one more contestant. IF there are any stragglers debating joining... Why not? you might win.

 

[SKILORD]

I'll give freeman another call, but he's been sketchy since he moved to Charlotte.

 

[Blaze Injun]

Hey,

Kill Girl Miyabi was up and dressed in her new clothes before her three hours of sleep was up. She still wore a schoolgirl uniform but it was now half covered with a white leather jacket. Her organization's logo on the back. The cesti were now in her jacket pockets. Orange ankle boots now covered her feet and purple and pink stripped thigh high socks.

She looked toward the park. All was quite except the repeated warning.

The Tournement will begin shortly. Sorry for the rush. Thank You.

Kill Girl Miyabi smiled. "Sweet goodness." She pulled on her fanciful, half skull looking Succubi mask and picked up the goldfish bowl. "We need to get you some sisters fast, Akina." She held it up to look in on the little goldfish.

"Blup. Blup." Miyabi said to the fish and laughed insanely. "That means time to kill."


KGL04

 

[Nylan]

He blew the dust off of the guitar as he picked it up, which threw him into another coughing fit.

"So I guess you don't get requests for musical instruments very often, huh?"

"No, I'm afraid we don't."

"Well...it looks like it hasn't been used in decades...but I think it will work. How much do I owe you for this?" He turned to look at the hotel worker who had let him into the first-floor storage room.

"Oh...no, nothing. It's a pleasure to serve is all. We try to ensure that our guests have everything they need. For some of them..." He fidgeted a bit.

"...it might be the last nice thing anyone ever does for them. Is that right?"

The worker nodded silently.

"Yeah, I think that's pretty messed up too. Just keep doing what you're doing. Helping others is an investment that always pays off. Never forget that."

With that Leo put the guitar back into its case and slung it over his shoulder, following his new found friend out of the storage room and into the lobby. There were a few contestants and workers milling about, as well as what Leo supposed were spectators. Some had cameras. Some wore funny hats. Many carried pamphlets and coupons. It was as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be in abandoned theme park gearing up to pit people against each other in deathly combat.

"Disgusting...this is absolutely disgusting."

It's great, isn't it?

"You know what?" muttered under his breath hoping no one would notice, "You can shut up now."

Ha! I don't have a mouth to shut!

Leo let out an exasperated breath and tried to ignore his little friend. He needed to relax a little. He needed to take his mind off of all of it. That's why he had asked for a guitar. There were few things more therapeutic than music to him. It's power to captivate was unsurpassed. It could take him on a journey to heights he had never imagined, delve deep into his heart and release feelings he didn't even know were there. In fact, sometime it was the only way to get those feelings out.

He crossed the lobby to the reception desk, where he had left a black four-legged stool. He passed through the crowd, guitar and stool in hand, and found his way to the back wall. He got a few strange looks from the people he passed, but no one said anything to him.

He set up, tuned the dusty guitar as best he could, and began to play...

Spoiler :

1) If you decide to play Spanish folk music and sweep the women in the crowd off their feet, please turn to page 23

2) If you decide to play "Your Guardian Angel" and get choked up as you remember past experiences, please turn to page 12

3) If you decide to play "Hey There Delilah", please die

 

[KaiserElectric]

I want to be the last entrant please. I'm almost finished with my intro story, should be done by tonight.