TBNES - Tournament

[KaiserElectric]

OOC: Here we go.

No one was quite sure how the stranger got to the Ferris Wheel, considering how well guarded it was and how noticeable the newcomer made himself when he first appeared.

As he stumbled into the hotel lobby, the scent of rubbing alcohol and dried blood began to overpower the floral scent coming from the vases lining the walls. The crowd just stared at the odd man as he walked down the hall, clutching an old stained suitcase and a dirty overcoat under each arm. Breathing painfully through what looked like an old-fashioned gas mask without a filter hanging from it, the man walked up to the front desk and dropped the suitcase with a thud. The leathery suit he wore was stained and dirty, not revealing an inch of skin on his entire body. Even more disturbing was the thick leather belt around his waist, which carried an assortment of sinister looking medical and mechanical tools, including several syringes filled with what was unmistakably blood.

"How did you get in here?" demanded the man at the front desk.

The stranger didn't answer, but looked directly at him with the empty black lenses covering his eyes. Leaning forward, the man read the name "M. Mengele" scrawled on the neck of the overcoat.

"O positive, stressful, slight sleep apnea," Mengele said suddenly, voice muffled by the mask. "No wonder...you're so rude..."
Mengele punctuated the revelation with a painful sounding cough. Dark red blood trickled from the seam of his neck, which Mengele didn't seem to notice.

"You need to leave now, sir," the concierge said. "God knows how you got past the guards, but if you don't..."

A dark chuckle echoed from the hidden mouth, which seemed to drop the temperature of the room by ten degrees.

"Out of shape...weak...lazy," Mengele said bluntly. "Bad bodies...spoiled with good blood." Coughing softly, he motioned towards one of the bloody syringes on his belt.

The concierge gulped, trying not to vomit at the sight of the syringes. "Sir, you must leave now. Vacate the premises and head back where you came from or I'll be forced to..."

The phone suddenly rang, making the concierge drop the gun he was hiding under the desk with a clatter. Mengele didn't seem to notice, being more preoccupied with the crowd at the other end of the hall. Swearing, he replaced the gun on the hidden shelf, and picked up the phone. A minute later, he hung up the phone and looked back at Mengele, who was pacing the hallway slowly.

"Uh, Mr. Mengele,"

"I'm a...doctor..."

"Yes, Dr. Mengele," the concierge corrected himself. "I've been told to offer you an invite to the competition taking place here. It seems we're short one and we need a replacement."

Dr. Mengele tilted his head to one side. "Intriguing..." he muttered softly.

"Yes, very," the concierge said. "It seems they went over the security footage of you breaking in, and the boss thinks you could be a good addition. There is a prize, should you survive to the end. Are you interested?"

Mengele turned to face the crowd at the end of the hallway. After what seemed like years, he suddenly spoke.

"Yes..."

"Great," the concierge said, turning to the desk behind him. "Just take a room for the night and I'll send someone up to explain the contest in detail. Just let me get a few details before I..."

The concierge turned around to hand Dr. Mengele a paper, but he and his possessions had vanished. The scent of blood and rubbing alcohol still lingered in the air, and there was an ominous stain on the carpet where the doctor's suitcase was set. Feeling nauseous, the concierge called for a mop to clean the stain.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

Update 0

Well, that seems to complete our Roster. The Signups are CLOSED.

Our first battles will be as follows:

Raul Vs. Mengele. The setting: the Amazonian jungle with a Mayincatec temple complex.
Kill Girl Miyabi Vs Keder. The Setting: Cave Network
Jobo Habak Vs Seymore and Mr. Fiddlesworth. The Setting: Rusting Industrial Complex
Lazarus Leto Vs. Antifelix The unlucky. The Setting: Derelict spaceship in Deep space.
Leo Cazales Vs. Chaos The Laughter. The Setting: Catacomb/Tomb network
James Black Vs. Zachariah Anderson. The Setting: A Volcanic Island


This round of the tournament will end next Wednesday, at approximately the same time. May the best win! Have at it!

OOC: Stories must be posted with the Competitors and the round in Bold at the top of the story.

 

[Nylan]

occ: You didn't...

 

[Tycho]

OOC: This should be an interesting grouping of matchups, and the settings seem interesting. I had thought we were going to fight in the carnival, but it will be interesting to see how people do in these enviroments.

 

[Blaze Injun]

Hey,

OOC
Yes, the settings very unexpected. Evens the odds in my storyline. All thoses hours scouting the park.


Blaze Injun

 

[Lord_Iggy]

Hee hee hee heeeeeeee did!

*Grin Extends Larger Than Face*

 

[Optical]

OOC: Deep space?

Awesome

 

[Terrance888]

In the main square of Carnivale, I stood.

Same spot as last night.

Sheepishly on my shoulder, Bertie stood.

Same spot as last night.

Beside me a silent figure stood.

Same spot as last night.

Watching silently.

“Judge North might not let you keep him” came a whisper. It was Galla. From the corner of my eye I can see her flutter her eyelashes as she petted the metallic rabbit on my shoulder, “He can be… rather protective of his work.”

I stayed silent, just watching the Golden Masque as he flirted from one stall to another like a fretful bumbleblee, his laughter pealing like a silver gong. Watching Raul picking up another pamphlet, and apparently finding another character sheet, for he didn’t throw it away in disgust this time. Watching as Antifelix once again got the smallest drumstick on the vender’s cart, a small frown pinching his thin face.

“You cannot hide your feelings from Carnivale” came the voice again. “we… I know how you fell. Will you let them take him from you?” The succubus then rolled a sly finger down my sleeve, rending the flesh underneath tingling. Yet still, I ignored here. “Will you let him be taken… without trying to stop them?” She turned to stare into my eyes with her wide, almost unreal, eyes.

I stared back. I almost said something, but caught a glimpse of a spirit within the deep, dull pools which should have reflected her soul. The spirit was wild, yet sad at the same time, lonely like the last Wolf south of Greenwich in the winter snows, escaping the legions of pelt-hunters, and stopping my attempt to call to the huntsmen with a piercing glaze. The same spirit struck, and I fell back into silence, contemplating my answer.

“You know what I’ll do if they try to take him” I finally answered, “and You know what my answer would be. You know what I would do to keep him, so…”

“Oh?” she interjected sweetly as she parted from my front, “I know that you will ask the Judges for custody of Bertie, the Flying Bunny of Knowledge, as a personal aide and as an ally in combat.”

“Wait…” I called, but she was already gone with a sly smile and a snap of her fingers.

Bertie looked over into my face, now grinning like a March Hare, “They’ll tell me if they accept or not soon.”

All I can say is, “You can fly?”


(Can you answer this before either of us start writing?)

 

[Seon]

Mr. Anderson,

Although I normally dislike the use of my mechanical rabbit by any other man, I am also curious as to how you would use the darn thing.

You have my premission to utilize the bunny to your full advantage. You caught it, after all.

 

[Nylan]

OOC: You see, this rush is exactly what I had in mind when I thought of NyNES. Best of luck to everyone!

 

[mayor]

lurker's comment: let the mayham begin

good luck everybody. can't wait to read your battlestories

 

[Tycho]

OOC: You see, this rush is exactly what I had in mind when I thought of NyNES. Best of luck to everyone!

OOC: Indeed, let the best man win in this!

 

[Blaze Injun]

Hey,

OOC

Matchups will be randomized each round to ensure fairness.

That was amazingly random.

Good Luck Everyone.


Blaze Injun

 

[SKILORD]

Raul Vs. Mengele

Round 1

-

The barking yelps of Toucans make Raul feel at home for a second, but he had appeared here the same as he had appeared at the Carnival, so there is no telling when or where he really is.

The stray glitters of sunlight that break through the canopy bring life to a pile of stone by now only haphazardly assembled. A Temple and the beams of light escort the imagination to great and powerful civilizations that had assembled such a thing once. But the days of glory are long forgotten and now all that remains is the crude testament of a pile of stones.

Raul approaches the Temple, and hears rustling in the jungle. Something out of sight. Something that sees him. He looks around and tries to catch a glance of the noise somewhere, but it shifts around. Panthers? He wonders, would they have gone so far as to include jaguars and panthers?

The Kevlar might stop a bullet or deflect an imperfect slash, but Panther teeth… he wasn't sure he was ready. Raul picks up the pace, looking for a wall to put his back against.

The temple is still thirty yards away, thick roots cover the ground and Raul has to lift his knees up high to avoid them when the first syringe comes flying through the air.

Leather is enough to block it, a good thing since Raul doesn't think to change his coat to anything else before throwing up his arm. A direction, a source. Raul looks up into the trees.

"Contrarian, stressed, undernourished, dare I say, neurotic." Mengele says from his perch up on a branch, "Because you must be crazy to be here. You know, where I'm from they don't let me play with others anymore."

Raul turns the branch to sand, only to watch Mengele grab on to another and another before vanishing into the trees.

Raul pulls out his Mossberg, checking to make sure he has water shots in the cartridge, no need to kill the man, nothing about that in the rules.

Mengele bounds out of the underbrush, slashing viciously with a pair of cleavers at Raul's legs.

The blade connects, slashes clean into the jeans and into the Kevlar weave and brings back a trail of blood. Raul pulls his left fist up, watches the glove shimmer as it turns to diamond and then connects a panicked retaliation to the man's face.

Mengele stumbles back, dazed, spits out a tooth. Raul takes a deep breath and pulls up the Mossberg, he hadn't been hoping to be depending on this thing already, he pumps it.

And Mengele leaps right at him, blades swinging again.

Diamond trenchcoat, Raul tucks himself down inside of it, waiting for the assault to cease, the slamming and scratching. Raul has pulled his arms in, but the sleeves still go out to the outside and now Mengele sheathes his knives and pulls out a small container, "Xylyle Bromine, I'm sure a smart guy like you knows what that means."

And he pours the tear gas into the sleeve.

Leather, water, anything else, the thoughts are racing through Raul's head, get rid of the whole equation, but all of this takes time and focus. The Bromine, the whole coat, all the extra ammo is water now, puddling around Raul's feet. Great. He has one extra clip mounted to the Mossberg, but that's all now.

The cleavers are back out; Raul turns them to dust in Mengele's hands, "What else you got?"

A steel toed sneaker rushes up and slams into Mengele's leg another diamond gloved fist swings down.

Mengle pulls back and lets Raul slam his too heavy fist into the ground, pulling out a syringe and jabbing it into the man's back.

"That should take some of the fight out of you."

Raul's eyes start to blur, Mengele knows his arteries, he got it right into the bloodstream, on the fast track to the brain, Raul stumbles back.

He is close to the Temple now. He looks over at it longingly and begins to swerve from side to side, barely moving forward.

"Where are you going?" Mengele has a sick smile on his face while he starts to sharpen his knives.

Raul turns his labcoat to lead.

Mengele collapses on his face under the weight of the thing. The wind comes out of him in one smooth push and a crack that resounds through the forest.

Raul totters towards the Temple, tries to think about whether he can get to the poison in his blood, the frightening mechanics of trying to transmute something in his bloodstream, he reaches out to try to find the chemicals.

But they find him first, and he collapses into the shrubbery.

-

Raul awakes to the sight of Panthers, wandering around the bodies. Easy prey, wounded, still alive. Good meat. Mengele's drugs clearly weren't designed to let the patient sleep through the procedure, just enough to knock them out for fifteen or twenty minutes. The dusk light is retreating, but night only shyly wanders into the jungle.

He takes a deep breath and tries to remember how to deal with these creatures.

Their growls take an alert tone as he starts to move around, the time has come it seems, the hunt is at hand.

Mengele groans.

"Be quiet," Raul whispers very deliberately, but he is already turning his clothes to diamond, trying to distreetly pull the hood over his head while he lays on the ground.

Quicksand, a moat of quicksand all around them, the cats start to loose their hold on the ground and sink, one leaps up into the center between Mengele and Raul. Mengele laughs while he cuts the animal open.

Clothes back into clothes, Mengele's newest knife into dust, Raul hops up and starts swinging, human fists in leather gloves, jab, jab swing, Mengele blocks the punches, deflects them with his elbows and dodges them.

"Enthusiastic, but ill fated," Mengele smiles, catching his breath and waiting for the diamond glove to finally put Raul off balance.

"You're running out of room," and Raul kicks Mengele into the quicksand.

The doctor grabs a vine and pulls on it, letting the momentum sail him over the quicksand, he lands on the other side, "Clever, sure. But not clever enough."

Quicksand back to solid ground, the frightened mewling of the panthers caught in the quicksand turns to horrified roars and screams of pain as they become encased in solid ground, buried instantly to the neck.

Other panthers begin to drop out of the trees, Raul looks around panicked.

Mossberg, incendiary rounds. Raul begins to fire into the jungle, a good fire will clear the brush, let everything get reborn, get rid of the cats, and keep Mengele from jumping back into those trees. Three incendiary rounds into the brush and the panthers are on the run from the noise and light.

Four, and the whole jungle is on fire.

Raul begins to stalk towards the temple, "Let's finish this. You want to play? Let's play."

Five is unnecessary, the fire is going up fast, spreading from plant to plant. But five clears the cartridge and Raul reloads his shotgun.

Mengele is standing on one of the near stones, "You think a little fire scares me? Think this makes it hard for me to work?"

The doctor, bloody now and without the labcoat that he had crawled out from under further out in the woods, steps into the flames.

"Some like it hot."

The rest of the man's clothes are burning off, but he doesn't seem to notice or care, Mengele just gives a twisted smile as he smells his own flesh melting.

Raul pulls up the shotgun to his shoulder, Solid slug, one shot, two shot, three.

Mengele jumps behind the tree before it explodes, but he is nowhere to be seein in the remaining cinder and sawdust that is left as the tree starts to collapse, landing loudly on the stones of the temple.

The fire roars around Raul, this isn't working for him.

Raul climbs up the first three terraces of stone, tries to get a good look at where Mengele has gone, rubs the cut on his leg, it hasn't been slowing him down but it is still bleeding, a bleeding prey is sure to draw a predator. Raul pulls off his Bandana and wraps it around the wound.

Mengele drops from the sky, syringe in hand, "tired already?"

He plunges down the needle, smashing his hand right into Raul's suddenly solid diamond jeans. Raul smiles.

Lead shoes on Mengele, lead pants too, just to be safe, "That should slow you down."

Syringe to dust, utility belt to dust, Raul returns his own pants to something more mobile and as he slides away down the rock he takes his first calm quiet moment to appraise the man, "You, sir, are a handful."

The fire is roaring, getting close to the temple, Raul sweats, standing up and stepping away, the flames light his face as he pulls out his shotgun, "I've read that you have a flair for the sadistic. Like to torture people, make them suffer for a long time before you kill them."

The doctor waves his arms around, trying to get a grip on something so he could pull himself over, get a hold of Raul.

"Don't worry, that's not my style," Raul puts the shotgun to the back of the man's head and pulls the trigger.

 

[thomas.berubeg]

ooc: That's EXACTLY what i'm hoping for. great story.

 

[KaiserElectric]

My character can't spit out a tooth because he's wearing a mask, but I digress. Artistic license.

Looks like I have my work cut out for me. Nice one.

 

[SKILORD]

Sorry, I missed the mask.

Thanks.

It felt like just about everyone was hesitant to throw the first punch. I hope you bring it hard man.

 

[Nylan]

It felt like just about everyone was hesitant to throw the first punch. I hope you bring it hard man.

Happened last time. Expect a swath of last-minute entries. A hard deadline does help, though. Great combat imagery, btw. That has to be a fun character to write.

 

[Terrance888]

At least I planned out my fight. The problem is Mr. Black has no personality I can find other than Irritated, composed, and Pirate.

 

[Optical]

I'm writing mine right now, so expect something in the next few hours .