Sunstorm - A Battle Royale-style RP (Game thread)

[The JoJo]

https://i.imgur.com/fXHIzKa.png

Chapter I - The Holding Bay

The walls of the space station had clearly seen better days. Once sparkling white, two decades of occupation had left a slight yellow tinge that even a thorough scrubbing could not remove. But it remained a comfortable enough facility with bunk-rooms, a cafeteria and even a medical room. It was here, in the front chamber overlooking their destination, that the contestants found themselves assembled.

"Good morning. This is your host, John Hoxha, wishing you a very warm welcome to the first ever Sunstorm Games."

The presenter flashed a pearly-white smile, only the slightest flicker around his feet revealing his true holographic nature. The real John was most likely still in bed, working off a hangover.

"For our viewers at home, we are currently two hundred kilometres in orbit above the verdant world Pan. With an atmosphere and gravitational pull not far removed from our ancestral Earth, this planet was a prime candidate for colonisation during the early expansion. Well, that was before they met the wildlife."

He winked at the camera, before turning back to address the gathered contestants.

"Relax, eat, and prepare for your upcoming interviews. Oh, and let me introduce the Happy Contestant Assurance Droids, or H-Cads for short."

He tilted his head to the right, where a number of seven foot droids were stood to attention against the wall.

"These chaps are programmed to treat any violent conduct with extreme prejudice. So I suggest you save yourselves for the Games."

Welcome! Take this chance to introduce your characters and interact with each other, while we wait for the last few players to draw up their sheets.

Also, feel free to join our Discord and hang out with your fellow players: https://discord.gg/R9X4y58

Enjoy!

[CoreBrute23]

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/38/2c/3d/382c3d0bd83195a7cf786aef2af09359.jpg

Antophilla buzzed uncomfortably in her seat. She did not like the cramped enclosure of the holding chambers. More to the point, she did not understand the need to get to know the people she would kill for this 'game' these hosts were planning.

Well who could comprehend the savage mind of mammalians? She thought to herself. She adjusted the purple cables on her wrists, making sure they were functioning under her exoskeleton.

He glanced at the non-mammalians in the room, and two caught his eye. One was a large blue reptilian, with four arms, and the marks of an experienced killer in it's demeanor. It seems so familiar.

The second was what looked to be a tree in humanoid form. Antophilla was worried her poison would be unable to affect the sap of such any opponent. More to the point she had never heard of such a creature before.

If no one approached her or gave her reason to, she will likely move to talk to Trin.

[Quagmire]

A lanky human man leans against a wall, looking over the other contestants. When John is done presenting, he claps slowly.

“Thank you John, and thanks for having me. My name is Darian and just want everyone to know that I’m glad to be here, there are so few opportunities to practice my craft where people appreciate if. I mean my first book was a masterpiece but now you give me a chance for a sequel! You have to understand how much this opportunity means to me.”

Darian then pushes off from the wall and walks into the middle of the group of contestants. His gaze sweeps through them, a predatory look in his eye.

“And you all, you have the opportunity to be the subjects of my next book. There is an audience watching so please die interestingly. I mean-

Darian gestures to the camera and smiles

“these people are here to be entertained. If you die to some wildlife before I can get to you, we all will be so disappointed.

[Demonjazz]

Iris had been unfolding parts of his Manifold blade throughout the speech. He didn't even look up at the hologram until he heard the line about Earth. He let out an annoyed grunt and scratched at a small clipped on device at the bridge of his nose that had a tube leading up into his nostril. He muttered something inaudible under his breath and then started to unfold his multi-tool again, shooing away a camera that was trying to get a close up on the blade.

He started to refold several of the implements back in when some other Earthian (Earthian to his eyes anyway) started clapping and doing yet another speech. He grunted before saying "Do we all have to deliver a speech or is it just some Earthian tradition to grandstand?" His eyes maintained focused on the blade in his hands.

[Godzillarich]

Freezac ignored what the insane host man was blabbing on about and looked around at his competition. He saw what looked like to be a walking tree. "That's going to be boring to kill it doesn't look like it bleeds.
He then looked at The Kid, he actually remembers trying to search for this little brat when there was a bounty on his head. Freezac searched for him for months before getting bored and killing the people who hired him. He doesn't like getting jobs that waste his time.
This Jay Collins person looks like an idiot way over his head. He'll make sure to kill him slowly for wasting his time.
The trench coat man seemed like the same deal as Jay, way over his head and will most likely die painfully, preferably by Freezac's hands.
This Atticus guy was peculiar. There was something weird about him, it looks like he was infected by something. Freezac will keep his eyes on him.



“Thank you John, and thanks for having me. My name is Darian and just want everyone to know that I’m glad to be here, there are so few opportunities to practice my craft where people appreciate if. I mean my first book was a masterpiece but now you give me a chance for a sequel! You have to understand how much this opportunity means to me.”

Darian then pushes off from the wall and walks into the middle of the group of contestants. His gaze sweeps through them, a predatory look in his eye.

“And you all, you have the opportunity to be the subjects of my next book. There is an audience watching so please die interestingly. I mean-

Darian gestures to the camera and smiles

“these people are here to be entertained. If you die to some wildlife before I can get to you, we all will be so disappointed.

"Here's a good twist for your book, you dying on the first page." Freezac interjected.

Freezac then turned his head to someone familiar. "It's the bug..." he mumbled as as he conjured up a knife made of ice into his hand. "So how's your queen doing?" he asked nonchalantly, grinning at the invertebrate.


"Do we all have to deliver a speech or is it just some Earthian tradition to grandstand?" His eyes maintained focused on the blade in his hands.

"Weaklings like to talk a big game." Freezac answered. "Earthian are weak so I'm pretty sure it's a tradition for them."

[Vrock Bait]

Drud: I slipped out of the room while the hologram was speaking. @$#& rich guys. Not that the lock had been easy to pick, mind you. Thought everyone should listen to them. I made my way through the ship. Not the biggest or most luxuriest, but definitely better than the dfaag-rat infested hotel I had been living in. I came to the cafeteria. Walking to the back of the room, I headed to a vending machine. “Please select a snack or drink.” It announced. I punched in the code for a bag of Bagra Bites, and they dropped out in the iconic yellow-green package. I picked it up, and ripped it open. Something silver flashed inside. Wait, what? I opened the bag, eager to investigate. Behind me, a voice suddenly appeared from the silence. “Please do not wander off during the presentation.” I turned around, knowing full well the sound of a droid’s monotone. “Please return to the main loading bay.” It stated flatly. “Well, you see... I haven’t eaten since-“ “If you will not voluntarily return to the loading bay, I will be forced to escort you.” The ‘bot held up a blaster rifle menacingly. “Okay, okay, I’m going...” I slowly inched out the door, back in the general direction I had come from. “Please return the item you have removed.” It held up the rifle again. “Fine, fine.” I handed the bag of snacks to the droid, and returned to the loading bay.

[Viirin]

Trin stood silently, watching, analyzing.

Hologram: No value.
Androids: Value. Level: Moderate.
Demihumans: Value. Level: Moderate.
Faux Arthropodia: Value. Level: Mediocre.
Homo Cryogenesis: Value. Level: Advanced.
Indigenous Life: Potential value. Level: unknown.

He continued watching, analyzing.

[Garjel_blah]

"Sweet secular saviour... Looks like I'm really doing this."

Rod "Come Home Jay" Collins stood at the large observation window, attempting to grapple the entire cosmic vista of planet Adelphos with his gaze. He'd never had an opportunity to go off-world before, so this was his first time being presented with such a cosmic sight. He'd have preferred something a little more serene, maybe one of those gas giants with the rings, or a geyser moon. Looking down at Adelphos, with its densely foreboding biosphere and vaguely apocalyptic post-colonial starkness, felt more like peering into his own fresh grave.

Rod turned away, hoisting up his belt with a grunt as he strode past the other contestants. They'd already started the pre-fight posturing by the sound of it, but Rod wasn't about to join in. For now he was a lot more worried about this interview than he was about mind games. After all, he had enough mind games on his hands trying to deal with Claire...

"There'd better be something carbon-based around here for me to drink," he said, spotting the cafeteria doors. The only other normal looking human contestant, the Drud fellow, was standing beside it with a stern looking H-Cad.


...I handed the bag of snacks to the droid, and returned to the loading bay.

Rod nodded curtly at Drud, then asked the H-Cad,
"Hey robot, are we allowed in now? Don't tell me you're going to deprive a man of his last square meal."

[CoreBrute23]

Freezac then turned his head to someone familiar. "It's the bug..." he mumbled as as he conjured up a knife made of ice into his hand. "So how's your queen doing?" he asked nonchalantly, grinning at the invertebrate.

"You cold blooded wretch!" Antophilla buzzed menacingly at the words of the mercenary. "You dare show your face to me after what you did!"

Incredibly fast she flew straight at Freezac, her talon ready to strike-when suddenly a combat droid appeared in front of her, it's weapon preparing to glow with energy.

She stopped at the droid and lowered her arm. It was foolish to start a fight outnumbered by these droids. She could not fail the hive by dying before the game began-she would have to obey their twisted rules.

"Freezac!" She yelled. "I will find you in the arena. And I will not show you mercy again." She raised a talon straight up. "You will die choking on my blade."

[Viirin]

Trin continued watching, analyzing.

Faux Arthropodia. Tactics: Analyzed. Blind-fighting sequence begun.

He didn't move except for his eyes that continued watching the room and its inhabitants, but Trin started imagining how he should fight based on what he saw. Imagination was not impossible for the bio-mechanical oak, and he used it in this moment to see himself and this possible target engage in battle. If it did one thing, he would respond in one way. If it did something else, he would do something different.

[Godzillarich]

"Freezac!" She yelled. "I will find you in the arena. And I will not show you mercy again." She raised a talon straight up. "You will die choking on my blade."

"Oh, someone wanting Revenge..." Freezac said as he stretched his arms "It should be fun killing you like the rest. also..." he than pulled back on of his arms.


Trin continued watching, analyzing.

Faux Arthropodia. Tactics: Analyzed. Blind-fighting sequence begun.

He didn't move except for his eyes that continued watching the room and its inhabitants, but Trin started imagining how he should fight based on what he saw. Imagination was not impossible for the bio-mechanical oak, and he used it in this moment to see himself and this possible target engage in battle. If it did one thing, he would respond in one way. If it did something else, he would do something different.

Suddenly the knife slammed into the wall a couple inches from the trees face. "I don't like being watched without my consent." Freezac said in annoyance at Trin. "...if you want to find my weakness you might as well be open about it."

As this was happening the Droid turned around and pointed its gun at Freezac. "What? it was a warning."

[Viirin]

Trin continued to choose not to move, and though he wasn't staring at the homo cryogenesis beforehand, he was now.

In his mind, Trin thought something. Re-analyzing threat potential of homo cryogenesis. Threat level: minimal. Minimal threat and advanced value equal priority target.

[Quagmire]

“Ah, getting violent already. I prefer a bit more buildup but if you all like to get the weapons out early on who am I to critique your style. Only one of the most famous murderers of the century or something.

But maybe that isn’t something you all get. I know you are all skilled at killing, and who here is just game and who is legit can’t really be seen until we get down there, I know most of you are as committed to this as I am. But you have to understand what I’m doing here.

To be harsh, you can’t make it in this business without a bit of panache. Passion is good and all but murder is an industry where people make money, and in the death-showbiz you’re nothing without good branding. What’s the point of ending sentient lives for an adoring audience unless you make a buck and give them a good show?

[Viirin]

Trin shifts his gaze momentarily and thinks.

Threat level: obsolete. Obsolete threat level and mediocre value equals target chronology. Number: One.

He goes back to staring at Freezac.

[Demonjazz]

The Kid refolded his blade as the Earthian continued his speech and the Reptile started fights with the humanoid bee... That was a concept that he had trouble getting around. Why would something that could fly need legs developed for standing and running long distances? He stretched his own ape-like feet as he got up. After spending so many years living by himself he was not liking all of this non-stop talking that everyone was doing.

As he walked towards the door that Rod and Drud were held up at; he pushed Darian gently out of his way. "We aren't civvies. You're not impressing anyone. Stop talking." He stated in a brusque and matter of fact manner.

As he walked past Freezac he patted him on the back and said: "There's no shame in a tree being smarter than you."

He did a couple of quick flips of his Manifold blade and it split in half to form a knife and a fork as he stood next to Drud and Rod.
Most of the people in the room were easy to get a beat on. While the tree and the colony staring off into space seemed suspicious, they were understandable... Rod, and Drud though didn't look like fighters. As Iris stood waiting to eat he eyed Drud up and down. He didn't like the look of this one, someone who would could easily pick a lock and yet so easily be spotted was unusual. Iris snapped his attention to the middle distance where the H-Cad stood and asked the question he always did when sizing up people. "So... What do you like to eat with your lichen?"

[Garjel_blah]

Iris snapped his attention to the middle distance where the H-Cad stood and asked the question he always did when sizing up people. "So... What do you like to eat with your lichen?"

Rod glanced sidelong at the kid. He didn't look too much older than his boy Jay. How could someone so young be allowed into such a brutal competition? He didn't even want to think about what it would be like meeting him in the arena...

Still, for all his imperfections and solemnity, Rod was a dad at heart, and as such he couldn't help but crack a grin.

"Mmmm... I'm lichen the sound of that, eh?"

He nudged Iris' shoulder with his elbow.

"Eeeeh?"

[Godzillarich]

“Ah, getting violent already. I prefer a bit more buildup but if you all like to get the weapons out early on who am I to critique your style. Only one of the most famous murderers of the century or something.

But maybe that isn’t something you all get. I know you are all skilled at killing, and who here is just game and who is legit can’t really be seen until we get down there, I know most of you are as committed to this as I am. But you have to understand what I’m doing here.

To be harsh, you can’t make it in this business without a bit of panache. Passion is good and all but murder is an industry where people make money, and in the death-showbiz you’re nothing without good branding. What’s the point of ending sentient lives for an adoring audience unless you make a buck and give them a good show?

Freezac look at the Bargain Bin serial killer with annoyance. "You're going to imply that I'm not good at murder? I've driven 25 Sapient species to Extinction, annihilated multiple rebellions and killed the mightiest of Heroes. you're nothing but a poser who talks a big game but in the end can only kill weaklings."




As he walked past Freezac he patted him on the back and said: "There's no shame in a tree being smarter than you."


Freezac would have snapped the Kids neck right there and then if it wasn't for his other confusion. That this Kid had the balls to get that close to him and than insult him so casually. "I Have to give you props for that kid, took a lot of balls..." he told The Kid. The Snarky are the ones I have the most fun with. Will be fun seeing you in the arena"

[Demonjazz]

The Kid turned his head slowly to the side and stared blankly at Rod. "Yeah, I've heard that one before."

The Kid didn't turn his head when he addressed Freezac. "It doesn't take balls to call an idiot, and I'm not snarky. That tree is the smartest thing in the room, and you should give it some respect. Galatras employed a lot of mercenaries. I know your type. You didn't become a mercenary because you wanted the money, you were too stupid to do any other job. And every time you fail you kill something and call it a win. You're not special. No one is."

[Quagmire]

Darian tries to stand his ground as the kid pushes him, but stumbles back. In an instant though, he regains his composure and aura of arrogance.

“Stop talking? I would never! And I know you aren’t amateurs, but you’re not the ones I’ll Have be trying to impress. I don’t really need the approval of people who will be dead in a week at most.

Now Iceman, I’m not saying you’re bad at murder, its just... I’ll try to put it in simple terms. An entry level employee at Pangal Xenocusine probably makes thousands of krillburgers in a day. Meanwhile a five star chef might spend weeks preparing a meal. Both are good at what they do, one just needs more skill and creativity. Like for all the ‘ended 20 species’ talk, a bunch of those species seem to have survivors which just looks to me like sloppy work.”

As he says this, Darian gestures to Antophilla. He suddenly turns away from Freezac and goes back to looking at the kid.

“While you’re right in this case, kiddo, I hope you’re not saying that about the entire murdering-people-and-making-money industry. Some of us left very stable careers to pursue our passions.”

[The JoJo]

Velvet City, Adelphos

While the contestants bickered among themselves, the real John Hoxha was still trying to sleep in his luxury Adelphan penthouse. The convenience of holographic projection meant that whole segments of the upcoming show could be prerecorded at his leisure, when he wasn't fighting off the mother of all hangovers. But live interviews were one thing that couldn't be produced three months ago in his pyjamas.

"You're up in fifteen minutes, John," his digital assistant chimed for the third time. John groaned and pushed aside the duvet, reaching for a handful of wake-me-up pills.

"Thanks, Cassandra," he mumbled, more out of habit than anything else. He rose unsteadily to his feet and stood to attention as a pair of domestic droids dressed him, applied make-up, and straightened his famously luxurious hair. Winner of coif of the year award five years in a row. As they did their work, he caught a glimpse in the mirror of the young woman still unconscious in his bed, a curl of mousy hair draped across her face. Her sleeping face conveyed a vulnerability he found strangely intriguing — a desire to cherish, but also to hurt. The power to do either.

Yes, he would hire her again tonight, he decided. He had the credits, after all.


~

Orbital Station, Pan

"Interviews will begin presently." The automated voice interrupted Darian. "Please enter the holochamber when your name is called."

Okay, it's time to start our interviews! Once you head over to the holochamber, you will find yourself (virtually) surrounded by a live audience and opposite to the esteemed John Hoxha. I can provide questions tailored to your character on request, or you can write the whole thing yourself. Up to you.

You've got a week. Once your interview is up, I will PM you with your starting location on the island. Good luck.

Oh, and I've been informed that our old Discord link has expired. If you would like to join us, click here: https://discord.gg/R9X4y58

[Viirin]

Other contestants were interviewed first, one of which seemed to care more for the gnat-like swarm of camera drones than anything else.

When they got to Trin, he just stood there, like the tree he is. Staring apathetically forward, whether a camera was there or not.

Something poked him from behind. He didn't move or react.
It poked him harder. He gave no reaction.

The obnoxious flying cameras started bumping into his face, shouting incoherent gibberish, probably from someone else's pre-recorded messages in case someone was uncooperative.

"We know your name is Trin", said a hologram projected by a camera drone. "But our records are rather in disarray at this moment. What species are you? Where do you hail from? What do you hope to accomplish in the competition? What sets you apart from everyone else, making you think you can win?"

Trin didn't respond.

The counter-sound of the drones was shut off by the drones themselves, and the buzzing became deafening and forceful constant gusts, while the drones kept ramming into his face, back, and shins.

To get the worthless insects to stop bugging him, he finally said something in an apathetic tone. If someone else were to say the same words, it might be considered arrogant, but that vibe was not emitted by him. "Watch, and learn."

[Quagmire]

”As fun as it would be to sit here and continue antagonizing each other, there’s more important people on the line. See you on the battlefield.”

Darian waves back to the rest of the contestants as he walks away to be interviewed.

Dedicated fans, terrified onlookers, and future victims, I’m everyone’s favorite homicidal psychopath Darian. So what do you all want to hear?”

Ill take the questions you provide.

[Godzillarich]

Freezac simply sighed. "The more these people bad-mouth me, the more satisfying ripping off their heads will be." he thought to himself. "Probably should get this interview over with."
______________________________________

Freezac sat down in the little interview room. "So I'm not allowed to kill anyone until I get this interview over with?

[Blindfolded Ape]

Atticus blinked, tilting their head at the camera.

"We are the Ravni of Atticus, and we are trillions. Each being is a nation unto themselves, and we seek to expand to those great nations. When we succeed at this contest, we shall send our colonists to all worlds, bringing with them the joys and wonders of our existence. There will be no alternative."

They spoke through a filtered mask, the organizers not wanting any pre-emptive moves from Atticus. The normal interviewer had refused to enter the room with them, instead sending the questions as text. Not to mention the logistics of talking with a species that underwent a generation every hour and primarily spoke through chemical signals was going to be a nightmare to figure out, so best to bypass that.

"We heard of this contest as part of the founding of Atticus, finding records within the cranial archive. We agreed that it was worth the risk to potentially spread our colonists to all reaches of the known galaxy, and perhaps beyond. We hold no hostility to others, only that we wish to expand as all nations do. Is our action truly so different from teraforming a new planet for your kind?"

"Regardless of your thoughts, we have chosen our path. We will fight, and we will win. As we have found traditional to greet new species, according to cranial archives in Atticus, we come in peace. Expect us."

[Demonjazz]

"Contestant Designation: The Kid. It is your turn to interview the gracious John Hoxha."
The Kid grunted in response and remained in place. Several drones than aimed their guns at Iris's face. "Contestant Designation: The Kid. We are required to inform you that you forfeit your rewards if you do not participate in this interview."
The Kid gave a more annoyed grunt before he dragged himself slowly into the holochamber.

Iris held up his hand as he was blinded by the spotlights from several drones. "Everybody give a round of applause for the youngest biological contestant in this game!" The booming voice of John Hoxha called out quickly followed by the thunderous applause of a million holograms clapping in unison. The Kid was dumped into some kind of amphitheater, but the stage only a small set about 15 feet wide with but a desk with John Hoxha seated and a comfy armchair. The theater section expanded much farther outwards to the point that Iris couldn't even make out the faces in the top row. Not that everyone had faces that could be made out in the first place. The Kid couldn't imagine that there had ever been as many different alien races in the same place at once.
The Kid not having even been comfortable with the amount of talking in the lobby stood there for about five seconds before he tentatively took a seat in the armchair across from John. "So how are you feeling... Iris, Is it okay to call you Iris?"
"WHAT!" Iris said far louder than he intended. "I think I got tinnitus from all the applause!" A laugh went through the crowd as he said that. Iris looked confused to his host John.
John let out a forced laugh and a dazzling smile back. "Haha, what a joker-"
"Is that what passes for humor in the galaxy?" There was a burst of much louder laughter from the crowd. Iris continued to look confused.
"So how are you feeling Kid?"
"Hungry," A softer laugh went through the crowd. He turned to John as he made a sweeping gesture to the audience. "I'm sorry, but are they going to do that every time?"
"Only if you keep being so funny, Kid."
Iris slouched back into his chair with a grunt and an audible groan.
"So Iris, why exactly was that you didn't want to put your name on any of your paperwork?"
"I'm not Iris. Next question please."
"Kid, we've got your DNA on record. Three hundred authorities have verified that you are the wanted criminal Iris Swanzo. By the way how exactly are the Swanzos at the moment?"
"Dead or in witness protection." There were a series of Aww's from the audience. The Kid's eye twitched slightly as he uncrossed his arms. "Why? Why are they doing that?" He said accusingly.
"I mean... It must have been really hard for you unable to talk to your parents. It's only natural to feel sorry."
"They are going to watch people die for entertainment!"
"I'd say that a whole lot of people would be glad that justice will finally be served to some of the contestants." John leaned back into his chair as he took a smug sip from a martini "Plus, you all did agree to the terms in your contract."
The Kid shook his head, exasperated as he sank back into his chair. It was pointless to argue. "Can I get a drink? Something stiff preferably."
"It's against the law to give drinks to minors," John said whilst having another expensive mixed drink being handed to him from off camera.
"The strongest tea you've got them." A piping hot cup of tea was immediately handed to him by a drone. He sipped on it tentatively before taking a larger gulp. "They had better tea on Dorth."
"That cup of tea costs most people more money than you've made in a lifetime."
The Kid sipped on the tea. "No respect for the tea tree. On Dorth our tea makers commune with the spirit of the tree before they make it. They than make it by hand as the tree intends. Each tree desiring a different way to make it."
"Well, my call schedule is pretty full so I'm not sure that I'll have time to call up a tea tree everytime that I want a cup." The audience laughed.
"That's not really ho-"
"Look at the time! It's time to start taking questions from the audience!" John interuppted
"I'd really appreciate it if-"
"Viewer number 96, you are on the air!"
A grey alien appeared as a hologram on the stage "Hello, yes. I am very disappointed that you chose a planet with an earth-like atmosphere and gravity. As a planet with a methane atmosphere and a gravity of that of .35% of that of Earth. Not even our best warriors could hope in competing in your tournament."
Iris leaned forward into one of the drone's mics. "Yeah, the atmosphere on Dorth is actually 33% oxygen compared to that of the Earth's 21%. The device on my nose helps me extract more oxygen from the air than I would normally be able to."
"As you can see we compensate our fighters to de-"
"However if it is destroyed, damaged, or otherwise ripped out it will leave me at a severe disadvantage. Namely that I will slowly suffocate to death over the course of an hour. Which is up there with death by gradual increase of gravity as the worst that I could think of. The gravity as well is something that will put me at a severe disadvantage. I was working on conditioning my body to higher gravity, but I have had limited access to any sort of gravity training equipment. I'll probably need surgery after this tournament to prevent a life of chronic back pain after this tournament."
The grey alien looked pleased but confused by the answers. "You are against the best warriors in the galaxy? Why would you think that you could win with such a disadvantage?"
The Kid sinked back into his chair. "Well... I had a pretty close scrap with a bounty hunter. And I figured that sooner or later someone was gonna get me if I didn't do anything. So there was two options, shoot down the President of The Galatras to get that bounty off my head. A major undertaking that might not even work. Or I could enlist in this tournament and get some protection. Or at the very least die on my own terms." The Kid smirked slightly. "Either way, no matter how good you are. A well placed shot right between the eyes will take down anyone." There were a couple of claps and hollers in the audience as the grey alien signed off.
"You're live right now Viewer Number 2403."
A rough looking man that looked like he worked security and with a cap that had a Galatras logo on it. "Yeah, I came on the air to say uh... **** you, Iris. The Galatras could have made your planet actually worth something, but have fun living in the stone age so you can keep some damn tree alive!"
John sighed as he was passed another martini. "Keep it short, and don't say too much about the sponsors."
"I don't really worry. Anyone who was actually there doesn't say **** like that. A lot of propaganda and misinformation bought with all your money. We weren't benefitting from anything they did. Galatras Employees were benefitting. The Dorthans worked at subistence wages, and heavy tariffs were put on non-Galatras Goods I'm sure you know a thing or two about that John?"
John didn't look amused but the audience laughed. "Very funny." He said coldly.
"But we aren't in the stone age. We're about the same technology wise as the other planets in the same sector. Our Infrastructure is underdeveloped. I will admit that. Our population is rather low, and a lot of wilderness isn't safe to travel in. But infrastructure isn't everything. The original founders of our Planet, Robert Antham and his wife Dorthy Antham traveled to Dorth because they were upset by all of the developments on Earth. How we destroyed so much for progress. To respect the enviroment and still be able to advance, and take of population that needs as many resources as humans is... Well it's not easy. The mine they developed hasn't gone to waste by the way, it's just that the extraction has been scaled back dramatically so that we could find ways to harvest the duralliium without causing any more damage. The mine itself is undergoing drastic changes to make it safer and cleaner for everyone."
There was a round of scattered applause as Iris finished. It was clear though that not all of the audience was pleased by his enviromentalist message. Neither did John as he called in the next guest. "Viewer Number 235, you're on the air."
A man in shorts and a camo shirt. "Yeah, so me and my wife have been trying a lot of the survivalist stuff lately, and especially a lot more traditional recipes. So do you have any recommendations from your life on the run?"
Iris leaned far too close to the mic and talked far quicker than he normally did. "If you got time and patience, I'd recommend smoked herring. However, smoking meat is a pretty ardous process so grilling is fine as well. Remember to add just a small bit of cayene pepper to it. Get some more earthy and heaty mushrooms as a side dish, steamed preferably. Get a lichen spread, jam if you really insist. Now a rock moss smashed into a paste is pretty good, but remember that it is very important to prepare it properly. Not only will you get pretty sevre nausea, you'll want to kill yourself from the taste anyway. A vegetable that's a bit more flavorful and savory goes like a tomato goes pretty well with it. I'd recommend a white tea or a dry white wine on the side. Great dish, plan on having it as my last meal before I go planet side. Maybe with a bit of potatoes."
John glanced at his watch. "Well, we planned on having you on longer, but the tree took up far more time than we planned.
Iris grunted as he wrapped his poncho closed around him. "Good, I was getting tired of all the talking anyways."

[CoreBrute23]

"My name is Antophilla Bellona, warrior caste of the Golden Hordeum Hive. I have come to be part of this disgusting spectacle, for one reason." She clasps her hands together, her wrist needles retracted.

"To save my Hive. To repair a tragedy done by the most disgusting of individuals motivated only by mercantile interests," Her eyes flicker towards someone off-screen. "and I will do whatever is necessary to achieve this goal."

Her wings start to flutter and she soars above the interviewers like an Avenging Angel.

"Nothing will stop me in this quest. For the Hive!" She roars, banging her chest with her fist in a military salute. Then she takes flight, leaving.

There's a brief pause before an interviewer says,

"So, is she coming back to answer the questions or..." Before the live feed switches to commercial.

[The JoJo]

Chapter II - The Island

"That's it for the interviews, folks," John Hoxha said as the final interviewee left the chamber, turning around to wink at the audience. "Now, here's the announcement you've all been waiting for. Here are the contestants' starting locations on the mysterious Feral Island."

https://i.imgur.com/ZdT5uvw.jpg


Starting locations:


Abandoned Colony - Drud Dasner
Light Forest - Freezac
Dense Forest - Atticus
Lighthouse - Darian McIntyre
Treacherous Isles - Antophila
Dead Marshes - Trin
Mystery Ruins - Rod Collins
Volcanic Wastelands - Thalia
Volcano - The Kid

"Even as I speak, each contestant will be being loaded into their own seperate pod, so they can be delivered safely onto the island. I've taken one of those things before, and believe me, folks, it's going to be a bumpy ride."



Beyond the basic rules as laid out in the Sunstorm Recruitment thread, here are some clarifications and options you can take now that the game has begun. Feel free to ask me anything that's unclear.

Movement

At the beginning of every round, your character must move to an adjacent zone to the one you are in. If I don't receive a PM or discord message in due time, then your character will be moved in a randomly determined direction.


Prompts and events

After player movements are confirmed, I will generate a random event for each player based on the zone they find themselves in. This could be finding a new weapon, being forced to shelter from extreme weather, or even being attacked by a swamp creature. Feel free to use these as much or as little as you like in your posts.


Three or more fighters

There is no limit to the number of characters who can take part in a fight. In the case of three or more contestants taking place in a single fight, the player with the lowest number of votes will be eliminated. If two or more fighters are joint lowest, then a die will be rolled to determine who is out.


Fleeing

In addition to fighting, your character has the option to flee and/or hide. If both players decide to flee, then no fight will take place. If one flees and the other doesn't, I will roll a single die. Roll a 4, 5 or 6, and the character escapes. Roll 3 or below, however, and the fight will take place regardless, with the opposing player receiving a bonus vote.


Allying

You may also choose to temporarily ally with an opponent you encounter instead of fighting. From the moment an alliance is formed, to the moment it is broken, your character and any allies will be treated as a single unit when being voted for. Either party may break off the alliance at any time. If a character decides to end an alliance and attack their former ally immediately, then they will receive a bonus vote.

That's it, the games have begun! The time on the island is early evening, and your first task is find shelter. Any time from now, PM or privately Discord message me the adjacent zone your character will be moving to when morning comes.

Good luck and have fun!

[Garjel_blah]

Rod heaved and strained until his face burned beetroot red, and his breath caught in his chest. He doubled over, gripping his knees to better put his back into it. Curses clamoured at the tip of his tongue, but were stifled behind a clenching jaw. Through swimming vision he saw his boots planted firmly on white tiling, his shorts and fanny pack draped over them.

With a grunt, Rod released the tension in his body, and sat up on the toilet seat. There was a knock on the cubicle door.

"Hey Collins, the pod's ready."

"Yeah just a minute!"

Rod had never done an orbital drop before, but he'd met others at the Global Emergency Service who had. By their account, it was something best done on an empty stomach - and, if possible, an empty bowel. However, at present this was proving difficult to arrange. Something about having just walked out of an interview in front of billions of viewers, not to mention being on the verge of a rapid thousand kilometre descent into a bloodbath with the galaxy's most dangerous combatants, added some challenges to defecating.

Rod looked back down at the fanny pack sitting between his ankles. Then again, maybe it wasn't just the nerves.

---

"So, Rod, you have quite the unique story. Can you tell us a bit about why you are here?"

"Well I'm um... Unique is probably right word for why I'm here. I'm not after the reward, or glory or any of that nonsense. Really what I'm after is a platform."

"You've certainly got yourself one of those here. People from every corner of the galaxy are watching right now. So tell us; what do you want to do with this platform?"

"I want to send out a message to someone. My son, Jay. He ran away from home."

"And how old is Jay?"

"He's fourteen in earth years."

"Still a boy. Oh, that must be hard..."

"Well it's got me up here risking my life to try and contact him, so yeah, hard is right. I just want to know he's okay, and that there's still a home for him with me."

"I hate to bring this up, but aren't you concerned about what might happen if you don't win?"

"Very. But I have to try."

---

Rod unzipped his medical fanny pack, running a finger along the neat row of capped and labelled hypodermic needles, until he arrived at one which didn't quite match all the rest. He withdrew it from it's elastic sleeve. The's metal casing of the syringe was blank, no measurements or pharmaceutical information of any kind. For a few seconds Rod Collins turned it in his fingers, but he never reached for the cap, and in good time had replaced it in its sleeve. He instead removed one of the three hypos labelled 'withdrawal medication'.

He'd hoped to last through the drop on yesterday's dose, so that he could save his supply for the fights themselves. But what good was trying to save them if he couldn't even make it through the drop? Clarity was what he needed, just a little bit. Popping the cap, Rod slammed the needle down onto his bare thigh, hissing through his teeth as the medication entered his bloodstream.

---

"What would you say to the rumours that you are dependant on a certain substance? Don't worry, this is Adelphos, you're among friends. Everyone's on something here."

"Look... I worked a dangerous job back on Ataraxia. A job with a lot of responsibility. Performance enhancing drugs were standard procedure, in fact I've gotten a hold of some of them from old contacts to give me an edge in this contest. But I'll be the first to admit that I went too far with them, I took some things that could really bring out the superhuman in a person, but it's always at a price you know?"

"Oh I do, Rod, I do. Am I right friends? But continue."

"When I retired from GES, that part of the job kind of stuck with me. It made me make some- I made some bad decisions, and mixed my family up with some nasty business. It's what got us into this whole mess. But I'm going to make it right, and I'm going to do it without help from... From the worst of those substances."

---

Rod strode out of the cubicle, ignoring the irate organiser who was trying to hurry him along. Out in the hanger his pod was waiting, the launch crew on standby to see him safely to the ground, and the ever-present cameras watching avidly from above.

"Step inside Mr Collins, hurry now."

Squeezing himself into a space barely large enough to fit his broad shoulders, Rod looked out from the open pod at the jostling cameras. He took a deep breath, feeling the clarity set in.

"Where we droppin' boys?" he asked the cameras with a grin, then signalled to the crew. The pod's seal gradually lowered itself down in front of Rod, locking him in with a baric hiss, and the thud of priming of explosive bolts. He felt his ears pop as the interior pressure was adjusted to match the Adelphos surface. He was now very glad that he'd taken the time to go to the bathroom.

---

"Now, I don't want to sound like I'm trying to talk you out of this, I don't think my employers would be very happy with that at all, but I just have to ask. Don't you think that killing your way to victory on live galactic television might frighten away your boy, instead of bringing him home?"

"That's... I'm... It's a difficult question. I don't know, is the honest answer. Like I said, I just have to try. If he really doesn't want anything to do with me after, then the reward will be all his anyway. If that can set him up for a good life, even one that doesn't have me in it, then that's a win in my book."

"I'm sure if anything, you'll come out of this as the cool famous dad, who little Jay can brag to his friends about."

"That's the dream, John. That's the dream."

"Well, thank you for sharing all this with us today. Before we finish, do you have anything you would like to say to Jay, if he's watching?"

"Yeah, I do. Jay, son... If you're listening, I'm sorry for everything. Our home, your mother. It was my fault, and I'm sorry. No matter what happens to me down there, just keep safe. Look after yourself. That's all I've ever really wanted, and that's what I'll be fighting for on Adelphos. I hope one day we'll meet again, and that you'll be able me look me in the eye when we do. And... This may be too much to ask, but I hope I do you proud."

---

"Initiating drop in t minus five... Four... Three... Two..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkTqjfq7FHo

Rod felt his gut lurch as he was jettisoned at speed from the space station, sending him hurtling alongside his eight nemeses towards the surface of Adelphos. Blood rushed to his head, carrying with it that sweet, sweet medication that reminded him so much of Claire. He couldn't help but whoop as his pod entered the atmosphere, and was promptly surrounded by a jostling ring of fire.

4x sterilising agents
2x fast-acting painkillers
1x hyperadrenaline
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x sensory neuro-boosters
1x oxygenated and condensed blood (O-)
2x tranquillisers
2x withdrawal medication
1x unlabelled

[Viirin]

As Trin was being led to his pod, he thought from the perspective of the Clearcut Forest (https://i.cbc.ca/1.4706352.1529090233!/fileImage/httpImage/image.jpg_gen/derivatives/16x9_780/new-brunswick-clear-cut.jpg).

Neither winning nor losing mattered at all.

What mattered wasn't even the contestants, though if Trin had the right timing...

The pod wasn't in very good condition, and as Trin entered it, something came loose and sparked (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBgUwYYHrZc), touching his exposed arm. All of him was exposed, really. However, his nanytes were unaffected since most of them had enveloped themselves quite some time ago in wood. He entered the pod unabated. Just hopefully the stupid thing was at least in good repair on the outside so it didn't explode and burn up in midair.

The attendant that led him to the pod looked inside in shock, thinking that he'd be attacked for such an accident. Trin, however, only stared at him in the face, his wooden eyes and leafy pupils (https://www.deviantart.com/viirin/art/Trin-s-Eye-798296838?ga_submit_new=10%3A1558293020) unblinking.

The pod shut with a hydraulic gust, rumbled heavily, and a sudden lack of any feeling of gravity overwhelmed the tree. Immediately after, thrusters could be heard firing, speeding the descent that much more.

Did the pod now count as a comet? The pod spun, feeling out of control (https://youtu.be/ymwSfUFvGOI?t=184), but then it stabilized and slowed. Outside, the engine fire forcibly kept the muck water from touching the ship, until it landed partially submerged. If it wasn't for the pod's overpowered door, getting the water out of the way in order to get out might have been significantly more difficult than it should have been.

Swampwater, algae, and mud poured into the now open pod, and Trin climbed out, keeping at the highest point of the pod until he could jump away so he wouldn't be pulled under (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6knjFfv5N90) like so many people are when a cruise ship cracks in half and sinks.

[Quagmire]

Darian walks into the booth, one of the few people willing to give the interview uncoerced. After some small talk and introductions with Hoxha, he gets to the meat of the questions.

”Tell us in your own words, Darian, why you're here."
Well this competition is kind of like an encore for me. At first it station 9 was going to be my blaze of glory since, internet petition or nonwithstanding , I was getting executed. But then, two weeks before my execution, I get a chance to murder people again. I mean getting another chance to murder people would be good enough reason for me to be here, and the fact that the alternative is death doesn’t hurt.

So to summarize, I’m here because a prison megacorporation thought it would be more profitable to release me into these games and get the prize money than to execute me themselves. If I win and give them the prize money, I actually get out with no charges. And people say that I’m the insane one with no regard for human lives.


"What is it about killing that you like so much?"
Well mostly because it’s flippin’ fun. Like there’s the adrenaline rush, and the fact that my wanting to kill someone completely alters their mental state. All the stresses, the anxieties, the worries that they had before don’t matter anymore. The only thing on their mind is survival. No matter what they cared about or were trying to do before, now their top priority is me. So I guess you could say Im doing it because it’s the only way to get that much attention. I think that means my ex was right about me... Still don’t regret throwing her out an airlock though.

And you don't feel anything for the victims?"
On the contrary, I feels plenty for them, usually either rage or pity. Before I found the joy in serial killing, I did it out of empathy. Let me explain:

There’s two kinds of people in this world. The ones who deserve to be murdered because every action they take makes the world a worse place for everyone, and the ones whose lives are so terrible and unfulfilling that freeing them from those lives is a mercy. The people on top deserve to die because of the cruelties they inflict on others. The people at the bottom deserve to die because even the most gristly death is just putting them out of their misery.

Ok, I can tell by the horrified silence and stares that not all of you are quite there yet. It’s cool, you’ll all see in time. Maybe we should go back to the lighter questions.


"Very well. Tell us a bit more about you. What sort of childhood did you have?"
Staying with the deep questions huh? I can roll with that, most of the evidence for my philosophy was found in my childhood so maybe it’ll help you all get it.

I had an average childhood I guess, parents both worked in oxygen maintenance. We had a pretty decent apartment and could travel planetside every two years.

My parents were decent, but they were always tired or resentful. They worked themselves to the bone and yet no one respected them because they were just maintenance techs. Without oxygen maintenance they would all suffocate! They worked hard, had a family, but couldn’t be happy with the station managerial tiers keeping them down. You know, once I get out, I fell like I should get back there and lock the doors and cut the oxygen. Maybe I’m just holding onto the past.


“Do you think there's anything that could have indicated the path you were destined to take?"
Looking back, I don’t think so. I had just the normal childhood, go to college, get a degree, get an apartment, and find a job on a far away station. Before the epiphany I was actually a normal person who was a bit prone to showboating. As a psychologist, I think the whole earning signs thing is overrated. Someone who was previously mild mannered and quiet could snap and murder the population of an entire station. Meanwhile, all of you are about to enjoy watching people murder each other for money, yet you all aren’t seen as potential murders.

”Before we leave, I have a special request from Rona Varquez, who describes herself as your "biggest fan ever". And we don't mean that literally, folks. She wants me to ask on her behalf if you'll marry her. What do you say to that?
Well I’m flattered but I’m not really in a place to start a relationship right now, especially when so many of my fans are interesting. It did take some guts asking me live in front of the galaxy though, so how about this?

I’ve always wanted to date someone who shares my passion, so if after the competition, I see the name Rona Varquez in the news and the crime scenes next to that name are actually impressive, I’ll break you out of prison and we’ll elope together. How does a galactic cruise ship sound? We can deal with the captain together and then travel the galaxy until we run out of passengers to kill”




After the interview ends, Darian walks back to his pod and gets ready to descent planetside. He grew up on a space station so a few more Gs than usual doesn’t faze him, his main worry is dealing with the wilderness. He grew up on a space station and spent the last few years in a prison, so his survivalist skills were not really up to par.

All of that was overshadowed though, by his giddy anticipation about the murdering about to happen. A crazed smile filled his face as his pod descended towards the planet.

[Godzillarich]

First question, why did you betray your race? They saw you as a hero, why give that up?

Freezac look at the interviewer with complete dumbfoundedness ”You believe in the notion of a hero? Ha what a joke! You people believe in Heroes because they hide the truth to our existence. We are selfish beings and only do things to benefit us. Any “heroes” are just selfish bastards who want to feel good about themself. Just look at my competition, a lot of them think they have noble goals but don't even blink at the fact of killing someone. At least I am self aware in that fact.” Freezac then took a sip of water. ” Anyway, to get back on track, I became a “hero” because 1.It paid well, 2. I was at risk of dying as well to those corporations, and 3. I thought it would be fun to kill people with a convenient excuse. Once one of those corporations was willing to help me with those three problems I was more than happy to work for them.”

"Who are you most looking forward to killing, and how do you plan to do it"

”Rod, no question. Just because there's a good chance his kids are watching. My only regret is I won't be able to see their faces when I brutally murder him.”

“What motivated your transition from murdering planets for money to competing in the games on your own initiative”

”The job is getting dull, and since this is a fighting tournament I should be able to find good challenges.

“Have you ever considered the morality of a mercenary job you were hired to do?


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BwSts2s4ba4

”Thank you, I needed a good laugh.” Freezac than got out of his chair. ”Anyway it's killing time.”

One last thing? best ice pun?

Freezac simply stare at the interviewer...
________________________________

Freezac’s pod landed in the mundane small forest, the door to the pod upped. ’Alas I thought I would be in a more fun area He talk to himself as he walked out of his pod. ”I suppose I could find the fun place but walking still a pain.” Freezac stop himself. ”Almost forgot to answer the last question.” he then pulled out a the severed head of the interviewer. There's a reason John Hoxha didn't take that interview. ”I may have overreacted but I'm sick of the ice puns. Anywho to answer your question I guess I just need to chill out” He then crushed the interview's head.

[Demonjazz]

An attendant shows you around the room as they explain the various features of The Neural Uplink Viewing Station. You are too lost in your own thoughts to pay that much attention to what they are saying as you are placed into the Viewing station. The attendant explains the proper way to exit and how to call from inside the Viewing Station if there are any problems that you have.
You lay down in the Viewing Station, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath as a calming robotic voice that seems to come from everywhere starts to explain everything to you.
Thank you for buying our Deluxe Neural Uplink Viewing Station. This viewing station will allow you to view the Sunstorm games as if you were a contestant. The brain waves from the contestant are being transferred to you from a device that all contestants had implanted in them. This will allow you to be able to feel all the sensations of the contestants as if you were them. The Deluxe model offering a completely customizable experience so that you may block out sensations that you find too intense.
Gradual immersion into your Deluxe Neural Uplink Experience is very important to your safety. We will need your permission to turn on Auditory and Visual Uplink
"Permission Granted."
You see yourself sitting in a waiting room with one metal chair as you hear the work of engineers getting your pod ready. You are flipping open one of your blades back and forth in a repetitive fashion.
We will need your permission to turn on Tactile Uplink.
"Permission Granted."
You feel the uncomfortableness of the seat as you fidget with the knife in your hands. Slender, but weighty as you flick it back and forth. It's deathly sharp as you flick it between your dextrous fingers. Your feet are cold and tired as you stretch out your hand-like toes on the hard metal floor. It was an odd sensation as you had never had your feet felt so dextrous and important before. The air felt cold and still, and you could feel the tips of your fingers getting a slight contact burn as you continued to flick your knife.
Pain is designated as an intense experience and is not default part of your deluxe suite, would you like to opt-in?
"Opt-In."
You feel a twinge in your back and neck. Most likely from the sudden feeling of being weighted down by the room around you. You cough as you feel unbidden itchiness in your throat.
Pain designated as fatal, near lethal, or shock-inducing can be dangerous and may cause shock or heart attacks in you, and is not authorized to those with severe health problems. You are designated as authorized. Would you like to opt-in to fatal, nea-
There was hesitation at first, but the words come out of your mouth quickly as the computer nears its end. "Opt-In."
Your gustatory and olfactory uplink will now be completed.
You could smell the musk coming off of the engineers as they walked past you. The air having that fresh, but a still and unnatural taste that all artificial air did as you breathed it in.
Your uplink process is almost complete. We will need your permission to grant Emotional Link. This is deemed as an intensive, but vital part of the experience. It is default designated as on. Say Permission Granted if you wish to continue with it on.
"Permission Granted."
You were not looking forward to the drop. You were dreading it in fact. There was a tension in your chest as you flicked your blade back and forth. The previously calming motion seeming suddenly nervous and unbidden. Between the tension though there was the tension of determination mixed in with your anxiousness. That tension that you had a hard but necessary job ahead of you. You were not looking forward to it, but the anxiousness lessened knowing that you'd have peace if you did the job.
Your heart rate and respiration have increased. Are you finding the experience too intense? You can turn off emotio-
"I'm fine."
Glad to hear
"Contestant Designation: The Kid. Your Time for drop has come." A drone buzzes around your head. Your face grows into an annoyed expression as you bat the thing away from your face. Getting up and straightening your clothes.
"Yeah. Don't have to tell me twice." A voice that is not yours naturally comes out of your mouth. You feel shocked, but not frightened by this. It's almost like you had this voice your entire life. Your slouched and confident stride as you walk past a set of automatically opening doors feels like empowering even as that pit of tension in your stomach becomes more intense as you step into the Drop Pod.
You are strapped in by several attendees. The harsh iron bonds around your feet and hands remind you of an awful memory that you can't grasp and don't wish to. The pod's door shuts with a harsh metallic hiss as you get a sense of nausea as they start to count down for launch. "This is gonna suck" was the last thought you had as you dropped into orbit.
It came on slow at first, a sense of zero-G as you could feel the heavy vibrations from the thrusters. You sense the walls around you shaking as gravity suddenly returns. For a brief second, you feel a relief at your normal gravity returning. This second is very brief as weight is pressed down on your lungs. You breath heavy and fast as the walls around you shakes with a ferocity. You can see the outside of your pod igniting as your mass is pressed downwards. A sudden sense of fear ignites your heart as you can't lift your feet that are being pressed into the wall. Your teeth grit, and you grind them painfully as you struggle for breath. You'd throw up if all your lunch wasn't already pushed downwards. You try to take deep breaths but find them coming out shallow and short. Now in the atmosphere, you can hear the roar of the engines occupying your thoughts.
You feel your mass shift upwards as the thrusters turn. Your toes come off of the ground as you float upwards slightly, only stopped by the restraints holding you. What felt like hours in the pod but must have been seconds, you are thankful to be coming to end when a harsh metallic voice roars out of the pod's speakers. "Your drop point has been set off course. Dangerous acceleration towards Destination Planet."
"What the **** does that mean!" Your head is launched back into the wall behind you, you don't have time to think as the noise of thrusters is suddenly replaced by the sound of metal against stone. You're thrown forward one last time as the pod slams to a halt. The restraints come off all at once as the door slams open. You take a deep breath as you climb out of the shuttle, escape the only thing on your mind when smoke fills your lungs. You feel like your choking on your own breath as you are overpowered by a sulfur smell. You lurch uncontrollably in a direction away from the smoke that is stinging your eyes. Your lungs burn, your face burns, and every time you breathe it just becomes harder.
You wheeze as you exit the yellow smoke collapsing on a bed of jagged black rock. The pain of which is the last thing on your mind as you lay on your back gasping for air as you look up at the mountain in front of you. A foreboding image even in your half-conscious state, a jagged black spire with a bright red running down its side. Spewing a pillar of smoke like not even the mightiest forest fire could.
I'm sorry, was that too intense? The warm inviting robot voice snaps you back to reality.
"No, I'm fine." You wheeze out. Relief mixed with anger.

[Blindfolded Ape]

Atticus stepped out of the pod, visible bruising growing over its body. That seemed a secondary concern though, as its left arm moved to the mask over its face, tearing it off and tossing it aside callously, taking in a deep inhale of the crisp alpine air, thick with pine and with a sampling of ash coming from the westerly wind. Exhale, and thousands of colonists left Atticus to begin their work on the nearby environment. The lungs expanded again, and thousands more got ready for the next wave.

At the same time that the mask was torn off by the left hand, the right was working to prepare the needle, plunging it into their leg and extracting a full boil's worth of pus, hundreds of millions of colonists preparing for the journey. As the needle extracts, the wound visibly seals, teams having been in preparation to work in concert on the matter. The bruises are a slower process, but they break down all the same as the splotchy marks move, disseminated by the nanoscopic workers inside Atticus and re-purposed within minutes.

At the central cluster of Atticus, nestled just behind the central cortex of the brain, teams began analyzing the data flowing in, seeing where it was stored and what they could glean from it. A cluster from the hindbrain came forward, proposing a course of action that was quickly decided on: With westerly winds, they should head into them. The forest was masking any scent for now, but they could not rely on such advantages elsewhere. Furthermore, inaction would lead only to being contained, which was agreed to being the worst possible outcome given the competition. And so, with trillions in concordance, they headed westward into the Volcanic Wastelands.

[Garjel_blah]

Explosive bolts in the pod detonated about ten seconds after impact with the planet's surface, launching the scorched metal hatch into the distant shadows, where it collided with some hard surface with a reverberating clatter. Shortly after, though with less vigour, came Rod Collins - first one broad hand and then the other, gripping the edges of the pod opening and hoisting himself through.

"Well would you look at that," he lauded himself, "you made it through the drop. Not bad, old timer. Now where did we end- Huh."

As far as Rod could tell, his pod had landed him in near-complete darkness. Hadn't it been daytime at the drop location, last time he'd seen it from the space station's observatory? How short were the days on this hellhole?

It took a few moments of blinking and staring for the correct perspective to reassert itself. He realised that the space he was in wasn't entirely dark, as there was an intense spotlight focused on the pod and its surrounding crater from directly above. Everything else was in shadow, but as Rod's eyes adjusted he soon realised that he was looking around the interior of a cavernous stone chamber. It had a domed ceiling, broken only by the spot of bright light, and a circular wall with two wide passageways leading off in opposite directions, stretching away further than he could discern. He stepped away from the pod to peer further into them, and that was when the smell hit him; over the burnt odour of pinging metal was a stale musk that reminded him of disused basements and derelict parking garages. Rod looked back up at the light above him.

"Looks like I busted through the roof of a cave or summin'," Rod speculated, rubbing his beard. "Maybe an old building, doesn't quite look natural..."

While the stone was rough, dirty, and likely very old, it appeared regular enough to be artificial by Rod's inexpert estimation. The floor was flat apart from the pod's impact crater, and the domed room with it two passageways seemed symmetrical. Something about the size and grandeur of the place even gave him the impression of an earth-style cathedral.

A loud bang had Rod wheeling about, ready to face an ambusher. But it was just a piece of debris from the ceiling breach, which had fallen and struck the side of his pod. Wherever he was, it may no longer be structurally stable, and there was always the possibility that another contestant had landed nearby. Rod thumbed his fanny pack. It was time for the ex-serviceman to make a move.

The ceiling breach was too high to climb through, so Rod would have to take one of the two passages. However, the sunlight could only illuminate his way for so far. So, searching in the dim light, Rod quickly managed to locate a length of dry vine that had been brought down along with the broken section of ceiling - presumably the structure's exterior was covered in vegetation, as would befit its age - which he then wrapped in fabric torn from the sleeves of his beige T-shirt. By pressing this into the still-glowing fuses on the popped hatch, Rod was able to ignite an improvised torch, and under this flickering light he now felt equipped to venture away from his landing site.

And so the contestant set off, following the passage that with the lesser musk in the hope that it would lead him to the outside world.

1x improvised torch

4x sterilising agents
2x fast-acting painkillers
1x hyperadrenaline
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x sensory neuro-boosters
1x oxygenated and condensed blood (O-)
2x tranquillisers
2x withdrawal medication
1x unlabelled

[Viirin]

After Trin escaped the sinking pod, he began walking towards his destination. Something must be there of some kind, though exactly what was unknown. Something had to be of use to the cybertree; the biomechoak assumed.

Along the way, marching through the muck, he sank up to his chest periodically, sometimes finding enough of a foothold to nearly be on dry land. Mud dried along his form when it was able to, but movement didn't help increase his inorganic casing.

Instead of continuing to ignore the plant matter that seemed to be from somewhere completely different than the native marsh plants, he investigated it. Most of it was not of value, but one orb-like shape stood out.

"Identifying...", he began to think in a processor-like fashion, "hura crepitans". This could be of strategic value, most assuredly. He continued walking. Maybe even more seed pods could be located along the way, or even at the destination.

It was odd no fauna had been seen yet. They were said to be abundant and dangerous, but maybe it was because he was flora that nothing cared to pay attention.

[The JoJo]

Chapter III - The First Day

As the sun set across the island and the contestants settled down for the night, John Hoxha waited for the Head Producer of the Adelphan Television Network in her office. There weren't many people John would wait on, but then, most people weren't paying his salary.

As much as he tried, though, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl with the mousy hair. If only he hadn't left his attention pills in a drawer in his penthouse. He tried to focus the old fashioned way by staring at a spot on the wall, standing straighter as Keuna Chase finally floated in. She placed her handbag down on the desk beside her, before turning to face him with a piercing expression he couldn't quite meet.

"So, John, I trust the interviews went off without a hitch?"

"Yes, ma'am. Freezac somehow managed to decapitate one of our holofigures, but our engineers are working on putting it back together as we speak."

"Perfect. If we can pull this first one off, these games will have excellent franchise potential. Celebrity Sunstorm? Junior Edition?" Keuna raised an eyebrow. "The most important thing is that they must not get any ideas about what happened before all this. Understand?"

"Absolutely, ma'am," John said, permitting himself the briefest of smiles. "I have just the thing in mind to keep it that way."



Present locations:

Antophila - Lighthouse
Atticus - Volcanic wastelands
Darian McIntyre - Treacherous Isles
Drud Dasner - Dead Marshes
Freezac - Treacherous Isles
Rod Collins - Dense forest
Thalia - Volcano
The Kid - Volcanic wastelands
Trin - Abandoned colony


So our first match-ups are as follows:

Freezac vs Darian McIntyre
Atticus vs The Kid


Okay, it's time to start voting! You can vote in every fight that your character is not involved in. Those of you who are fighting this turn, if you would like to attempt to flee or ally with your opponent, let me know before the votes close so it can be taken into account when determining the results. Thanks!

[Viirin]

"Analyzed. Potential outcomes:

00000001 : Pristine: Chance of success unknown. Insufficient data.
00000010 : Reconstruct: Chance of success unknown. Insufficient data.
00000011 : Incorporate: Chance of success unknown. Insufficient data.
00000100 : Abandon: Chance of success unknown. Insufficient data."

But Trin was not only a nanotech construct. He was a tree with the memories of a forest created for terraforming purposes, that was then cut down entirely for lumber. From the research he conducted on the starship he terraformed and stole, he found access to some records.
The CEO was not aware that wood had not been used in housing construction for quite some time, and his source's murder was pointless, even from a profit standpoint.

Angry tree looking for revenge and malnourished machine hungry for knowledge, both parts of his indistinguishable self agreed.

"00000101 : Fusion: Chance of success unknown. Insufficient data. But you know what? No one ever learned anything by failing to experiment."

Now he just needed someone to try it on.

[Garjel_blah]

Rod's makeshift torch didn't last him long, but it was enough to get him to the ruins exit. It was hard to make out much about the structure he'd clash landed in, as his exit had opened out into a densely forested hillside. It did however seem like some, or perhaps even all of it had been underground; the stone-hewn archway that he'd walked through was etched directly into the ground, like the entrance to a catacomb.

"Huh. Spooky."

There was no time to linger, however. The sun was already low in the sky, and Rod needed to get a move on. Peering through the curious alien trees, the ex-serviceman analysed the position of the sun. He breathed deep, sniffing the air.

"Mmm... Salty."

The sea was close. As much as he was tempted, Rod didn't think that a trip to the beach would be the best course of action. Too exposed. He would head uphill, then.

Rod tossed the charred remains of his torch into the bushes, casting it far enough away from the entrance that anyone looking for a clue to his whereabouts might have a hard time finding it. He took a bearing south-west, and set off, keeping an ever-wary eye out for danger.

---

Three or so hours of hiking passed before the daylight began its inevitable wane. The trees had only grown thicker as Rod climbed, and shelter had officially become a concern.

Rod scanned what he could of his surroundings as he pushed aside saplings and branches, forging his way through the twlight foliage.

"Gonna stop the next chance I get. Next good clearing. Rock even. Ah. Don't want to be too exposed though. Damn... Treehouse or summin' would be perfect in these parts."

Heaving aside a lengthy branch, Rod recoiled suddenly as a something light yet hard collided with his forehead. He dropped the branch, crouching reflexively, eyes darting in search of his assailant. He found nothing. Confused, Rod stood, and again felt an object clatter against his head. Swerving once more out of the way, he looked above him, and finally found the culprit.

A rope ladder hung from the tree besides him, the bottom rung of which was sitting at exactly forehead-level. It led up into the forest canopy, where Rod saw some kind of wooden structure set into the branches.

"Well I never... A treehouse."

Of course Rod was not a gullible man. A treehouse just happens to drop its ladder on his head as he's walking past? But a forty minute stakeout of the area revealed no signs of occupation, current or recent. Eventually he had to consider the possibility that the ladder had just been tangled up in the forest debris, and had been knocked loose when he tried to shift it. By this time darkness had fallen, and Rod really had no other option but to take shelter.

Rod hoisted himself up about twenty metres of twisting rope ladder, climbing quietly, and listening carefully once he reached the last few rungs for any last signs of activity. Nothing. So with that, he pulled himself into the treehouse and rolled the ladder up behind him.

Above the treeline there was just enough light remaining to make out the interior of the treehouse. Not that there was much to see. It was mostly empty but for a canvas camping chair and a duffel bag.

"What've we got here?"

Rod grunted as he lowered he aching glutes into the chair, pulling the bag into his lap and yanking open the zipper. Inside he found a couple of tarnished tin cans, a kerosene lamp and lighter, a sleeping bag, a portable radio, and...

"Aw, beer! Hell yeah."

The crumpled carton was one can short of a six-pack, and lukewarm, but beer was beer. Thinking himself far above danger, Rod lit up the lamp with a whoosh, cranked the radio, and cracked open a frothing can of beer.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bGqvOscmYKE

Rod kicked back in his creaky canvas chair, surveying the sea of dark canopy out before him as he tuned in to age old radiowaves and sipped beer. He polished off one of the tins of food later in the evening, which turned out to be something approximating canned apricots, and permitted himself a few hours sleep in the sleeping bag. It smelt suspiciously of piss, but was warm.

Somehow, that warm beer and apricots was a better last meal than the steak and mustard he'd had back in orbit. Guess it's just nice to be finally taking some action. And as always... The meds helped.

Duffel bag:
1x sleeping bag
1x kerosene lamp
1x portable radio
1x mystery canned food
2x beer

Fanny pack:
1x lighter
4x sterilising agents
2x fast-acting painkillers
1x hyperadrenaline
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x sensory neuro-boosters
1x oxygenated and condensed blood (O-)
2x tranquillisers
2x withdrawal medication
1x unlabelled

[Blindfolded Ape]

Atticus pushed on, the volcanic air in no way conductive to their colonists. The haze they'd been leaving behind with each breath dwindled down, slowly reducing the fog of colonists down to merely what was inside the oral cavity. Not ideal, but at least they would be ready for when the time came. Still, this wasteland would provide them with some relative safety from the others, they figured. The others had seemed biological, which meant they likely were aerobic creatures. All of them could be anaerobic, sure, but the odds of that were slim at best. Not to mention that the Ravni of Atticus could go fully anaerobic if needed, putting them on a new level. But would they need to? The council inside Atticus' brain kept debating, only interrupted when the left pedal movement was impeded by...a crate?

Atticus crouched down, dusting the ash off the box and finding a bit of writing on it in blocky letters. "One Dozen Fragmentation..." Well, that would certainly be useful, though carrying the entire box would be a bit of a challenge. Still, the outfit had plenty of pockets, all the better to carry these things with. And thanks to the "so simple even a Tromoxfallan could understand it" level of instructions, they knew how to use them, already working out the better plans of how. As they worked though, a sound of crunching ash came from behind them, causing them to turn and rise. Someone else had come to the wastes, despite the precedent of biological survival. This would be a good chance to learn, they concluded, and then fell to a prone position. With precision only capable via having every cell in the body work in concert, Atticus moved to the edge of a small ridge, peeking over to see...the Dorthan? What were they even doing here in the first place? As one group argued for study, another reminded that this was a contest, and that with Plan A gone, being unable to spread colonists easily, they would need to resort to action. The debate raged on as The Kid drew closer, though none knew if they'd been seen.

[The JoJo]

The higher Thalia climbed, the worse her nausea became. She wasn't sure if it was the altitude, the exertion, or perhaps a combination of both. In her more light-headed moments, she felt as if she was floating above the rim of the volcano itself. When she was more lucid, she felt as though her calf muscles were about to tear themselves to pieces. But she carried on regardless. If what she had found scrawled in the notebook carried under her left arm was even half true, then it would blow the games right open. That would show Aaron, and John, and the rest of them.

She cocked her head as she heard a rumbling sound, and then suddenly, the ground seemed to give way beneath her. She lunged for the nearest boulder but found herself unable to find a good grip. As she scrabbled over the sliding rocks in a desperate attempt to stay on her feet, she caught sight of a figure standing in the distance.

"Help!" she screamed. But the silhouette didn't move, and there was nothing Thalia could do to stop herself sliding off the edge of the cliff and into the abyss. It was a long way down.


~

"...and there goes Thalia," John Hoxha said, wincing as the cameras panned over her fresh corpse. "What a sudden, tragic end to a short, sad life."

He left a solemn pause, before continuing.

"So, for those of you who have just joined us. Whenever a contestant passes away, we will launch a firework above the island themed to their individual character. This time, we will be honouring Thalia with a multi-coloured shower of droplets, to represent her life as an artist." He leaned in to speak directly to the camera in a conspiratorial whisper. "We haven't told the contestants anything about this. Let's see if they figure it out!"

As you may have gathered from this post, TheKool has decided to withdraw from the game.

In other news, the round 1 vote results have been sent to the relevant people! You now have until 21st June to complete your fights. Good luck.

[Viirin]

A high-pitched scree sounded off.

Looking, Trin saw it was fire. Fire, having a cooperation with trees, set Trin on a new path.

"Translating..."

"What was that meant to signify? It didn't seem natural or incidental to the combat of the others."
"Combat? The fauna is always restless."
"We came from elsewhere to die here. That fire must have had something to do with the combat between that which is alien to you."
"An alien fauna fell down a hole."
"It must have died, then. Its nutrients might be of use to you."

Trin addressed the nearest tree as the forest it was part of. The trees, bushes, even the mushrooms and lichen were part of each other in a vast symbiosis.

"There is one I seek for my own forest to grow. It is a very cold alien."
"Its presence hurts us. You would remove it for us?"
"That is what I want most. It might kill me instead of me kill it. If I win, we will thank you in time."

"It is already engaged in combat with another alien."
"Show me where."

If Trin could get into that battle and take down Freezac while he was distracted, injured, or at least oblivious to the first blow, that much better. Being the representative of a forest himself, this world's forest was quite cooperative as most plants are, at least when facing outside threats.

The new toy that Trin found would be a good opener once modified, and now that he had two additional weapons, it might provide even more opportunities.

[Godzillarich]

Freezac walked across the mighty sea, each one of his footsteps freezing the water below him. ”An Island could be good vantage point, the others would have to swim to get there leaving them open.” He thought himself as he walked around the sea. Something then caught the treacherous lizards eye. ”What do we have here?

The plume of smoke obviously wasn’t natural, clearly some sort of camp. What sort of idiot would light a fire and alert everyone nearby to his presence?

The sort of idiot who was planning an ambush of course. Darian’s silhouette was visible on top of the hill, concealed by smoke from what turned out to be a series of fires scattered around the island.

“Ok good, they worked, I knew this would draw you out. But tell me, how are your cold powers working for you in the heat of these fires?”As he monologues, Darian breaks out into a fit of coughs. “Ok this is Freezac, right? I can’t really see here.”[/b] After more coughing, he rasps “you know, on second thought, burning my boat to make these fires might not have been the best idea”

Freezac notice the fires that were going on, ”So his plan was to use the fire to weaken my power that would have been a good plan…” He thought as he watched the fire spread all across the island. ”...If one he was not on the island and two if he was not on said island he then made a chair for himself up on the frozen waves and sat down ”At this point he ether runs to the sea or burns to death.

Darian walked slowly down the hill, as his fires ignited the tall grass of the island. The flames drew closer to him, and soon he would be forced to run back to the sandy shore where he would be vulnerable. But first he would try his preferred weapon: talking. He could tell that Freezac was cunning enough to see his plan, but Darian might be able to play off of his pride.
So the conqueror of planets and doom of civilizations can be stopped by a simple smokescreen, good to know. The big game you talked gave me the impression that you wanted to kill me but I guess the hounds of war were all bark and no bite. Oh well.

Suddenly a massive ice Spike came flying by barely missing the serial killer and hitting a tree. Freezac walked onto the beach “I have to admit you really good at pissing me off.” he yelled out as he conjured up an ice spear into his hands. “If you want your death to be glorious and let's do this.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WVIpnoptwSQ
Darian flinches as the spear nearly hits him, but then smirks as the heat of the flames starts to melt it as it impacts a nearby tree. He clears his throat and walks out of the smoke, two knives drawn.

A confident expression on his face, Darian tries to slip under the spear to get within dagger range of Freezac. “Oh my death will be glorious indeed, but I can guarantee you it won’t be on some backwater island and caused by some brutish merc”

“Enough of your pretentious chattering…” Freezac screamed as he conjured up a frost blade “SHUT UP AND DIE!” Freezac slashed the ice blade at the human neck.

“Good, you’re getting angry. Getting thrown off balance” Darian replies coolly as the blade grazes his shoulder, his parry keeping it away from his neck but not completely defending him. Blood dripped onto the ground as the flames crackled and roared in the background.

“Well you’ve got killer instinct, and I can appreciate that. But like It said, you’re falling prey to your emotions. I mean, waiting me out was a plan that perfectly utilized your powers and my weaknesses, but when you got mad you just threw the plan away”

Freezac then grabbed the smug jackass by the neck, “and I have an easy solution for your brilliant plan.” He then throw Darian onto the beach. “I'll drag you to the ocean then.”

Darian slams into the sand, and the wind is clearly knocked out of him. He pushes himself back up, still smiling arrogantly. “Now that’s what I’m talking about”

He flourishes with his knives and moves to attack Freezac again before suddenly jolting to a stop.
”Wait one second, iceman. The fact that you just tossed me around like a ragdoll shows that you’re my superior in brute strength. However, the fact that I’ve just been thrown right next to the shoreline while you’re still standing right next to roaring flames shows that I’m superior in general planning and tactics. Your plans have potential though, and I think working with the right person, you could really go places. You understanding what I’m implying”

Freezac walked closer to the human, his blade still out. “You want an alliance?” He asked in curiosity. “that sounds interesting…”[/COLR] He felt that this human could have while annoying could be a good meat shield for him. [COLOR="#0000FF"]“...but how can I trust you?”

Darian’s posture instantly changed from a tense combat stance to that of a used car salesman.
“Well it’s simple if you think about it from my end. While we both eventually plan on betraying each other, we both have people we want to kill more. If I wanted you dead now, I would just keep fighting here and wait for the heat to wear you down. But if we team up, your ranged spears and ice powers will help me survive against the more exotic enemies.”
Darian smiles, the one hand at his side still holding a knife but the other held out for Freezac to shake.
“And besides, you know I have a flair for the dramatic. The two worthy adversaries need to know each other and develop before the final confrontation. We can’t just off each other early in, that’s be anticlimactic.”

“Fine…” Freezac mumbled as he lowered his knife. This human thinks highly of himself. He should be easy to manipulate. ” just try not to get on my nerves” He then slowly walked to the ocean, freezing it under his feet. ”I hope you can walk on ice…”

Darian thought to himself 'ok so I've gotten him to give me transport back since I kinda burned my boats for an ambush that didn't exactly work. The alien seems easy enough to manipulate' as they walked towards land of Freezac's ice, Darian tried to make some small talk So, Freeze, who do we go after next? There's a few murderable people that I've had my eye on, but I'm sure you have preferences too"

Freezac true to him “Whoever we find first”

[Demonjazz]

The long yellowed grass spread out as far as the eye could see. The Kid had been following tracks in the bent grass and dirt for quite some time. He didn't want to engage anyone this early on in the tournament without a gun in his hands, but he kept seeing these tracks. Something seemed off about them. They were human, but they weren't moving like a human. No animal walked like this actually. It was too stable, too perfect. Nothing walked in a perfectly straight line. There were always subtle but noticeable divergences.
He closed in on the figure. He had trouble making out who it was at first. It was the one who hadn't talked. He didn't think much of them at the time and he still couldn't get much of a read on the person. He was thinking of doubling back when they turned to his direction. Just... Staring. He continued walking towards them thinking that it was most likely a coincidence if they hadn't pressed an attack. Those eyes followed him though but the man made no moves at all towards him. Carefully The Kid nocked an arrow into place while crouching in the tall grass, and drew back his bow, he quickly rose and released the arrow... It whizzed over Atticus's head. He overcorrected for the high gravity. "****!" Iris cursed under his breath as he drew back another arrow.

Atticus turned to look at the figure as it approached. Which one was this again? They hadn't been able to get a full read of everyone in the room as they had not been able to send scouting expeditions out. But this one looked similar enough to Atticus that there had to be some similarity. The colonists began preparations as they stared, only to get interrupted by the arrow flying by. That got everyone to Battlestations, Atticus crouching down into a feral stance, the hands simultaneously going for both a grenade and their recently acquired explosives. They could only see the rustling of the grass, and still couldn't get scouts in the air from the dryness, meaning they were as blind as could be here.
They had the means to rectify that though. Pressing the armament button on the grenade, a green light came from the side, signaling it was ready. An awkward combination of a shot-put and a lob came next, sending the device flying...and falling short of the mark by several meters. A scan of the cranial archives showed that this had been something simply unconsidered by the Navri within gravitation. It rarely affected them directly, so they had forgotten to include it in their firing solutions. A lobe was quickly dedicated to adjusting for that, with the rest of Atticus going for the next explosive, stepping towards where the shot had come from.

The Kid sees the grenade in Atticus's hand and panics for a brief second. He hastily aims and releases an arrow that glances across the side of Atticus's shoulder. He braces himself against the floor as he sees the grenade leave Atticus's hand. The ground shakes as bits of debris are thrown about, but he remains relatively unharmed. He isn't sure why the grenade was thrown so far away from him, but he says a small prayer to the grass as he gets back up. Adrenaline pounds through his brain as the dry grass of the plains starts burning from the explosion that was set off. In a quick movement, he pulls his shirt up past his mouth to block out the smoke and looks around. His opponent stood on the opposite side of a readily progressing wall of fire. For a brief moment, he stares down his opponent as if challenging him... Before turning around and sprinting in the opposite direction hoping that the hivemind didn't have a good throwing arm.
Lucky for Atticus they had quite the throwing arm. Unlucky though was that their frontal lobe had not worked out the specifics of gravity quite yet. A grenade landed thirty yards in front of The Kid. Iris tripped over himself as he tries to stop himself, landing with a painful thud across the plain. Instinctively he covers himself with his hands as the ground shakes underneath him, in a quick second he feels a stud of metal makes contact with his third finger on his left hand, he grinds his teeth trying not to scream as he clutches his hand against his chest. He looks down at his hand. What he feared was true. His finger was bleeding and mangled, the hint of a small white bone showing. Iris tried to curse under his breath, hoping that his opponent couldn’t hear him but it came out closer to a shout. He bound his finger quickly and messily. He doubted that he could save the digit, but the tourniquet would at least numb the pain by the time he needed to remove it.
Atticus readjusted themselves as one lobe of their brain judged the location of that scream over the location of the fires. Another of their lobes measured the wind and gravity as they brought their hand back.

It was tough to forget the sound of a grenade landing near you. Not many had lived to hear it twice, but The Kid was one of those lucky people. It was impossible to mistake that thump as he scrambled with his good hand. He picked up the grenade and threw it into the air. His eyes winced at the blinding light that filled the air as it exploded. You’ve lived through worse, you bastard! A Dorthan dies lying to the enemy, not on his back! Get up! A memory reverberated in his head along with the shockwave. The fires started to encircle him. Battle of ‘93, Iris remembered. The militia was backed in a corner and the Galataras were smoking them out. He remembered hearing his companion shout at him as he stared at the glow of the fires in front of him. There was no real rousing speech or a solemn oath or anything so cliche on that day. There was a brief exchange of words and nods as everyone ran toward the fire.
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!” Iris’s feet seemed to carry themselves as he grabbed his ax from his side. He made out a faint image through the fire. A wind carried with him as he jumped through the fire and his blade hit straight into the shoulder of his enemy, sticking. The Kid did a quick roll as he fell onto the ground.

The many organisms inside Atticus’s body worked at full speed as they knit together the flesh. With a terrible wretch, Atticus pulled the ax out of his shoulder, their limb making a terrible crunch sound as a bone was repositioned.
“What the **** are you?!” Iris shouted.
Atticus held the ax in one hand and the large needle in the other. “We. Are. Many.” It gasped as it repaired its lungs. “And so. Will you be.” Atticus rushed forward.
A three-inch blade was flipped open. “Bring it.” The Kid sunk into a defensive stance as his opponent ran to him. It was obvious that his opponent outmatched him in strength, but a Dorthan knows that there’s more than one way to skin a cat.
His opponent moved rigidly and raggedly as they repaired themselves but with great speed. The ax came first with it’s long reach in a downward strike. A brief movement it glistened as The Kid’s Manifold blade cut cleanly through the handle, and the needle came next. Iris caught the arm of his opponent and gave a twist but the robotic like movement of the man did not stop as Iris held his hand back fighting against the strength of his opponent. His taller opponent took the handle of the ax and smashed it against Iris’s face. He flinched for a second making the needle plunge closer to his skin. His mangled hand straining against his opponent.
His other hand tried to plunge the knife into his opponent's skin but was stopped. The handle fell to the ground as Atticus grabbed the handle of the Manifold Blade. Atticus loomed over The Kid bringing his face closer to his, spit forming in the corner of his mouth. “Give up. You will be overwhelmed and assimilated. We are stronger than you in every way. You can not win a fair fight.”
“You’re right. But lucky for me.” The Kid smirked. “A Dorthan never fights fair.” He quickly pressed a few buttons on his multitool. Another blade shot out from the handle of the Manifold blade slicing Atticus’s hand. Iris in a quick motion pulled his blade back, cleanly slicing off the third finger of Atticus.
The colony was taken aback and reeled as its members frantically planned a method of assault. They dodge to the side. Iris letting goes as he jabs his knife towards them. Atticus dodges to the side, but the debating and panicking colonists leave the man off kilter. The Kid quickly sweeps the legs out from under Atticus, pinning the hand of his opponent with one foot and keeping the pressure on the chest of his opponent with the other.
As quick as his opponent pinned him though, Iris jumped off of them and started running.

As Atticus got up, they looked down at their chest. A pin was missing from one of the grenades on his chest.

[The JoJo]

Antophila crept alongside the wall of the lighthouse, keeping to the shadows cast by the setting sun. She didn't believe there was anyone else close by, but as she had always been taught by the hive, careless patrolling cost lives.

She reached the door to the lighthouse, a rusting hunk of metal that was nearly off its hinges. Pushing it aside, she found herself in a cramped windowless room, every wall covered in machinery. Why would an island on a feral planet even need a lighthouse? Perhaps it was actually a signal tower, she reasoned.

There was a pile of crates in one corner, with a green cylinder poking out of the closest box. Antophila raised an antenna when she realised it was a grenade launcher. Now, if only she had some grenades to use with it.

Then, she heard something clatter behind her. She spun on her heels, stingers at the ready, to find herself greeted by two black, orb-like eyes. Tentacles which batted away her poisoned spikes as if they were drawing pins. She would have screamed, if she hadn't already been enveloped by the beast.

There would be yellow fireworks that night.

All right, that's our fights up. You have 72 hours to send me your character's movements before the next round begins!

Oh and as you may have gathered from the above post, CoreBrute23 has decided to withdraw early from the competition.

[Viirin]

Trin kept walking the direction the other trees showed him, guiding him in a language only he could hear or even be aware of the existence of.

Something cold had attacked another tree, and someone had started a fire too. The trees were not happy with this, but were happy that someone was going to do something about it.

[The JoJo]

Chapter IV - A Cloud Approaches

In the early hours of the morning, a thick fog descended onto Feral Island. When this finally gave way, it was to torrential rain that left no corner of the island untouched, soaking everything and everyone not undercover. And thus began the second day of the games.


Present locations:

Darian McIntyre & Freezac - Abandoned colony
Drud Dasner - Treacherous isles
Rod Collins - Abandoned colony
The Kid - Dead marshes
Trin - Treacherous isles

And the dearly departed:

Thalia - Took a long fall
Atticus - Hoist by their own petard
Antophila - Close encounter of the tentacle kind

So our second match-ups are as follows:

Rod Collins vs Darian McIntyre & Freezac
Drud Dasner vs Trin



Okay, it's time to start the second round of voting! As before, you can vote in every fight that your character is not involved in. Those of you who are fighting this turn, if you would like to attempt to flee or ally with your opponent, let me know before the votes close so it can be taken into account when determining the results. Thanks!

[Quagmire]

A path of ice cut through the water like a hot knife through skin. Two figures walked on it as it tore through the ocean towards the mainland.

The first figure trudged silently through the torrential rain, focusing his powers to keep the path steady in the rain. The second walked cheerfully ignoring the rain.

This second figure attempted to make small talk, bringing up topics such as the weather, waterproofing clothing, best brands of knives, previous kills, potential future tactics, who would have won their first fight, best detergents for removing bloodstains, and potential team names for their alliance.

After the seventh threat of death and dismemberment, he put his hands in his pockets and agreed to shut up and stop making conversation so Freezac could concentrate on freezing a path through the stormy waters. They walked the rest of the way in silence, the path of ice making its way towards the abandoned colony.

[Demonjazz]

The fiery blaze continued off in the distance as The Kid stopped near a small stream. Now it was only a speck in the distance as a great smoking cloud hovered over the landscape. The yellow grass that once shone brightly against the sun now loomed as the sun started to set.
The Kid sat down next to the stream. The feeling had left from his finger some time ago. He uncovered the thin strip of fabric from his finger and sighed as he washed his blade carefully in the water. He traced the lines of a scar across his arm. He was lucky, he hadn't lost a body part before, and he could live without a finger. He hovered over the finger with his blade, the skin now dulled to a dull crimson as opposed to the bright vibrant red that it once was. He took a moment to appreciate the numb finger, turning it back and forth in his hand.
He remembered a time when he held the hand of a stranger as a man took a hatchet to his foot. The man had one request before it was amputated. To see his foot in its awful state so that he could etch into his memory all the harm that the Galatras had done to him and say his goodbyes to his limb. Iris wondered how hard it would be to kill John Houxa. He doubted that he would ever do it, but it was an entertaining thought. Right between the eyes and that smug smile would be gone. It was almost enough to make him smile despite himself.
He carefully cut into his finger. One quick swipe and his finger was gone. He quickly wrapped the bleeding stub, said a quick prayer as he dug out a grave for his finger. He heard the crack of thunder in the distance and felt a drop of rain. A storm was approaching quick.
He'd picked up his pack and continued downhill.
Iris was tired as he trudged one foot in front of the other.

[Viirin]

Feral Island

Trin had an annoying time getting across the water to the island since he wasn't designed to swim. Nanytes were light enough to be unable to break surface tension of the water itself, and wood floated. However, enough nanytes counted as metal. He didn't sink, but he didn't walk on water either. So he swam. Once he got there, he asked the other trees where his targets went, but he had just missed them... a couple miles away from his current position. They had gone back to the mainland, where Trin had just come from. Before he could make his way in the direction he was pointed towards, he heard a sound that angered him. Something slashing apart leaves and breaking branches.

Drud hadn't seen anyone to sneakily shoot in the face yet, much to his dismay. "Oh no, you've got me, I submit!", he'd plea, only to pull out a pistol and fire it in the person's face. If they didn't agree to team up, then good. If they did agree to team up, then it would be that much funnier. But he was tired, and hadn't slept comfortably or even gotten a decent nap yet. Angry, he kicked some small saplings in half, and used one of them as a switch to rip the large-leafed fern plants out of the way, in an attempt to clear a space in the middle of some trees for a bed. Sure it was better than sleeping on the exposed rocks all around, but any concealment was better than none. Especially for a marksman.

Trin watched in anger at the damage to the plants that had been so helpful to him. It reminded him of the Memories of the Forest, of being cut down without mercy by weapons made partially of metal, but partially of the bones of his family members. Some of the weapons were even made of light itself, a further disrespect. However, watching Drud, something caught Trin's attention slightly, just enough to divide it. He couldn't make it out right away, but there were... things... moving in the underbrush. Lots of things, by the look of it.

Drud laid down on the pile of leaves he had made, looking above the bushes across the sand and rocks, but not towards the beach. Nothing would be there right now, it would be too noisy. No one was there, so he could finally go to bed for at least a little while. Something chittered next to his head. He didn't think anything of it right away, but then a few more started being noisy. Nah, it was the same one. He shook some of the exhaustion from his mind, and sat up. The same what? Two were in front of him. They looked kind of like rats (https://pm1.narvii.com/6644/465d5e04be5f99cad0ceac4cd64fc942befe5e7b_hq.jpg), but they hopped more than crawled, their faces looked like they were half-rat and half-human, but with big black eyes and a wicked set of dorsal spines.

Trin watched as something jumped at Drud, but he was too far away to see what it was. Drud spun around, trying to stand at the same time, but then another blur at the back of one of his legs, and he was back on his knees. He swung the bone he had used against the other plants, but it didn't seem to hit anything. Lots of blurry jumping things kept jumping onto Drud, and blood began to become noticeable. Trin decided to finally act.

Just as all hope seemed to be lost against these stupid horrible little monsters eating him alive with exceptionally high evasion and hit-and-run swarm tactics, Drud noticed something much bigger running towards him. It was one of the other contestants! The tree? What was his name? He had apparently gotten a sword from somewhere. The tree had a no-nonsense look in his human-shaped wooden face, and his sword held up high, for a magnificent heroic entry and rescue!

Drud's head fell behind his corpse, and the creatures scattered for a moment, but came back relatively quickly to finish their meal. Trin wasn't made of what these things, kuaka, Trin decided to refer to them as being similar to, required in their diet. Something bulged slightly in Drud's jacket though, on one side. Checking what it was, Trin had acquired a nice gift. Now that Trin thought about it, actually, Drud had killed some plants and used their bones as weapons against others... (https://www.deviantart.com/viirin/art/Trin-803996003)


The player behind Drud Drasner hasn't been around in awhile, and I sent him a PM as Jojo told me to, but no response even after a couple weeks. So, I didn't need to confer with him to get the post done. This is all me, baby!

[Garjel_blah]

Both of the psychopathics walked into a broken down building, the years certainly not being kind to it. ”For the 20th time, can you stop singing Mary Had a Little Lamb!? It doesn't matter that you desperately try to make it sound creepy you're still singing a children's song for 4 HOURS STRAIGHT! Freezac shouted at the top of his lungs as he searched for anything valuable in the building.

"You think I get the perfect creepy ambiance on the first try? No! These things take practice. I had to feed several people to sharks to practice before I killed that aquarium manager.”
Darian crosses his arms dejectedly and leaned against a wall. He stayed on the lookout while waiting for Freezac to finish looting the building.

---

Rod Collins was woken in the night by a dull thudding sound. Immediately he was on his feet, empty beer cans scattering from his lap. It turned out that the sound hadn't come from any immediate or even proximate threat. It was, rather, the sound of a far off exploding firework. Through gathering clouds outside the entrance to his treehouse, Rod could just make out streaming golden lights in the distant sky.
"Huh. Wonder who did that."

Resuming his sleep proved impossible, so Rod spent the rest of the night surveying the horizon above a gloomy treeline. He almost managed to spy a sunrise, but rain and fog descended just after first light, reducing his vista to a grey smear.

Rod made sure to take a bearing to the abandoned colony while he could still see it. Much of his waking hours had been spent contemplating his next move, and while the colony seemed like an obvious place to get ambushed, it was also his best bet for finding supplies. A risk had to be taken, and he might as well take it while the meds lasted.

Before setting off Rod fished out one of his two remaining withdrawal medication hypodermics. His last shot had been less than 24 hours ago, it would be a waste to take it right now. He would wait until he was just outside the colony, and take it then to ensure that his mind remains sharp, and ready to deal with whatever he might find there. Rod replaced the medication in his fanny pack, hoisted the old duffle bag onto his shoulder, and with an almost geriatric grunt of effort began to lower himself down the treehouse ladder.

---

Darian turned to Freezac contemplatively.

“You know your yelling probably attracted everyone in this city. Well, your yelling and my singing. So we might as well take advantage of that. You know how I like a good ambush.”

Without waiting for Freezac to reply, Darian started to fortify the abandoned house and lay crude traps like tripwires and improvised caltrops. He scavenged the furnishings of the dilapidated house to create his signature fighting environment, a deadly labyrinth.

“Thanks for the help with searching the house and doing the heavy lifting. Now all we have to do is wait here and they’ll come to us. It’ll be just like when you walked into my trap yesterday, except this time it ends in death.

Freezac wasn't really paying attention, He has mainly been filtering this maniacs ramblings more focus with his own planning ”What ever floats your bo..." Freezac stop himself. ”What was that? he turned towards a nearby window. ”It sounded like a bottle dropping

---

The dense forest provided a measure of protection from the rain. However, as Rod trudged downhill towards where he estimated the colony would be, the towering trees cleared abruptly to be replaced by relatively fresh saplings, interspersed with overgrown stumps. Logging activity, Rod guessed. Discontinued many many years ago. A sign that he was on course to a similarly discontinued civilisation.

Soon he was met by the battered perimeter walls of the main colony. They were tall, thick, and concrete, but nature had done a damn good job of reclaiming them. It didn't take long to find a breach large enough to squeeze through, sucking in his broad chest and pulling the duffle bag behind him. He emerged inside the colony, thoroughly soaked and mudspattered from his rainy trek.

Rod looked around at the dilapidated infrastructure, industrial grunge, and severe urban decay. He breathed in deep.
"Ahhh... Reminds me of home."

Then he heard the voice. An inhuman shout in the distance, one that was immediately recognisable as...
"Freezac. ****..."
Rod dived into cover at a building corner. Immediately he launched into a tactical analysis of the situation; fleeing was still possible, he could go right back out the way he had come in, or maybe it'd be better to press his advantage now, but why was the merc shouting anyway, was someone else here, was there a fight already in progress, could he-

Rod clutched he head, stifling a grunt of pain. He'd waited too long for his meds, and now the thoughts were eating each other alive in an attempt to make themselves heard. Rod groped for his fanny pack with shaking fingers, yanking out the hypo, popping the cap, and plunging the needle into his thigh.

Once the medication was drained, Rod threw the expended capsule away from him. Perhaps with a little more force than intended.

Freezac looked around trying to see if anything was off. ”There maybe someone else here..." He than turn toward Darian ”When you're done being pretentious check out the building, see if you find any rats."

”It’s called strategy, not that you’d know anything about that. But fine”

Darian finished what he was doing, and went to investigate the noise. He stepped out the doorway, being careful not to trigger the snare that he had set there, and looked around the street.
”Hello, is anyone here? Don’t make me have to come find you”

Damn, Rod thought indistinctly, it's the other psycho... They working together? Goddamnit... Can't think...

It sounded like Darian was around the corner from him, at the other end of the block. He was looking for someone. Had he made some kind of noise? Rod bit down on his fist in an attempt to stifle another pained moan, holding as still as possible. The pain would pass soon. Clair was on her way. She'd help.

What Rod didn't realise, in his semi-lucid state, was that he'd left his duffle bag sitting at a precarious angle on the curb next to his hiding spot. Slowly but surely it had been keeling over under its own weight. As Darian peered around the street it finally succumbed, slumping onto its side with the clank of clattering beer cans.

Darian walked down the street, passing the corner where Rod was hiding without reacting at all. He waited until he reached the other end of the street to reveal that Rod had been discovered.

”Gotcha”

He swiveled towards the building Rod was hiding behind and drew his knives in one quick motion.

“Nice to see you again Rod, although you’re looking a bit under the weather. I was hoping for a bit of a fight but this will have to do. I’ll find some way to enjoy it”

He advanced towards Rod with a blade in each hand, trying to drive him back towards the building where he knew Freezac was waiting.

"Darian," Rod greeted the advancing psychopath, forcing his voice to remain steady as he backed away down the street, unknowingly in the direction of Freezac. "It's awful to see you. How you been?"

“I’ve been doing just swell, thanks for asking. You know, walking around the city, enjoying the view, thinking about who I’m going to kill after I win this competition”

Darian continued jabbing towards Rod with his knife, forcing Rod further and further back until they were fighting next to the door of the house.

“I’ve got a lot of big plans for after the competition, and I think you have some plans of your own too. In fact, some of our plans might involve the same people. Did you know that with enough money, you can find basically anyone, especially when the person you’re trying to find is a scared kid with no resources to hide himself?”

As soon as he finished the sentence, Darian shoved Rod towards the trapped doorway, hoping that the threat would leave Rod off balance enough for the shove and snare to work.

suddenly a hand smash though the wall grabbing Rod by the neck stopping him from falling onto the trap. ”No not yet... Freezac yelled, smashing through the wall. ”...I'm going to relishing murdering this man." He than slammed Rods face into the wall. ”slowly as possible."

Rod grimaced with the half of his face that wasn't immobilised against the brickwork. Rage, panic, dread, remorse - the nauseating idea of Darian going after his boy Jay - all these thoughts were blasted apart by the pain of Freezac's manhandling. He wheezed through his constricted throat.
"Working together... Are ya? Two rotten peas... In a rotten pod."
Rod spat, which came out more as a dribble onto the quadradexterous alien's finger.

“I’m not sure, are we working together? Because right now it’s hard to tell.”
Darian replies, staring at the demolished bits of wood and rope that had been his trap.

Freezac throw Rod to the floor. Using his ice powers he conjured up an ice dagger. He smiled a psycho schmuck at the poor drugged-up father "Now then let's get to the fun part" he put the knife up to Rod's neck "Don't worry I'll say hi to the kids for you."

Freezac felt a sudden prick in his ankle. He had just enough time to look back and see the hypodermic needle sticking out of his scaly blue skin, before the tranquilliser began to take effect.

Rod rolled to the side, slipping out of Freezac's slackened grip. The withdrawal pangs and confusion seemed to have passed - getting slammed into a wall must have knocked some sense into him - and the ex-serviceman was surprisingly agile in leaping to his feet and running further into the building. He had to move fast; Darian would be right behind him, and the tranq dosage wasn't be nearly enough to fully down a big guy like Freezac.

Darian continued watching Rod and Freezac battle, giving commentary

”Seriously, Freezac, seriously? I know you’re an uncreative brute but I was under the impression that you were a professional. Letting him get away like that was just sloppy. Speaking of that, he is getting away”

As soon as he says that, Darian turns his back to Freezac and tackles Rod to the ground. While he struggles with Rod and tries to stab him, he yells back over his shoulder,

”Hey, you might want to get in here you know. I didn’t let you ally with me just so you could sit there and do nothing”

Freezac mind went nuts, is emotions going from sadness, to numbness, to sickness but one emotion persisted, RAGE!. "SHUT THE **** UP!" He throw the dagger straight into Darian's eye. "I DON'T NEED YOU TO KILL THIS DEAD BEAT!" he than conjured up an ice mace. "TIME TO DIE"

“Argh, MY EYE! I kinda NEEDED that. You know, for SEEING purposes. And for winking at people”

He looked around with his one remaining eye as blood streamed down his face. He stumbled around until suddenly he saw that Freezac was the one who threw the knife. Then he slowly pulled the dagger out of his eye and advanced forwards.

”Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal. I would say that choosing to backstab me in the middle of a fight was cold, but then again cold has always been your theme.”

He staggered forwards, his trusty knife in one hand and Freezac’s daggercin the other. Blood trailed out of his eye and stained the ground where he walked.

You know what else is cold? This knife, cutting through warm flesh. Your cold, when all the life and warmth has left it. All your ice and rage can’t stand up to a stone cold killer. The only thing you’re right about...

Darian leapt forwards with both blades gleaming in the light

”...Is that it’s time for one of us to die”


Darian’s body slammed against the wall, thrown by the force of a blow from Freezacs mace. He twitched, trying to push himself up off the ground to keep fighting, but his bones had been shattered by the impact. He tried to force out a few more seconds of monologue, maybe some dramatic last words, but only managed to cough up some blood before his head fell back to the floor and his eyes closed for the last time.

"HAHAHAHAH HE'S FINALLY DEAD!" Freezac laughed, blood coming out of his mouth. He then turn towards rod stumbling a bit " now that it's your turn TO DIE!" he screamed as he leaped forward at the poor single father. "Now let's show your kids how good you can DIE!

Freezac, however, had cause for some hesitation as he charged Rod, for somehow he looked different to mere seconds ago when he'd been pinned to the floor. His face glowed a bright ruddy red, the veins in his forehead bulging like pythons. His quads, already quite muscular, had swelled up thick enough to strain uncomfortably against his shorts, which he yanked up with an arm that appeared to be constructed from a combination of bowling balls and pins. In his other hand, he clutched an empty hypo. There was a delicate tink as it was dropped to the ground, and Freezac could just make out the label:

Hyperadrenaline.

"Bring it on, tough guy!" Rod roared, lunging to meet the mercenary. With the full power of megacorporate pharma flowing through his veins Rod lashed out with his fist, right at the moment that Freezac swung with his mace. The attacks collided in a great crash and a cloud of mist, as the ice weapon was obliterated by enraged knuckles.

"Why don't you understand you need to die. he yelled at his vision started to become blurry. He conjured up a knife and lunged at rod. Rod intercepted Freezac's knife hand with another punch. This time the crack was not of ice breaking, but of bone, as Rod slammed his fist into the alien's forearm.

"You little ****!" he screamed in agony as he backed away. " I've killed planets and species, you're just a normal dude, the first step of genocide. YOU WILL SUBMIT AND DIE!" with that he used his Working Hands and fire day a mist of Sub-Zero temperature straight at rod "Don't worry I'll put your frozen bodies right next to your kids HAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Rod rolled to the side before the mist could engulf him fully, sliding to a stop where Darian's corpse lay. With barely any effort at all he snatched up the limp corpse and held it in front of him, blocking Freezac's ray of cold. Once again Rod charged forward under the cover of his body shield, feeling Darian grow colder and stiffer as he was chilled. By the time he was within striking range of Freezac, the dead serial killer was frozen solid.

Rod swung with the icy corpse, shattering it over Freezac's head.
"AHH... was all the madman could get out before his neck was broken buy the Frozen corpse impacted. Freezac fell down upon the floor dead.

Rod stood for a moment, huffing and puffing, simply allowing the hyperadrenaline to burn out in his system. You couldn't let yourself get too carried away with it, else you could come down to find yourself injured. He knew that from experience.

The duffle bag still lay at the kerb. Rod walked over, hoisted it back onto his shoulder, checked that everything was still there, and retrieved one of his remaining beers. He was about to crack it open when he once again noticed Freezac, and a thought occurred to him.
"Open wide, buddy," he said, pulling apart the alien's reptilian jaws and lodging the can between them. "Gonna have you cool my beer before your body warms."

As he waited, sitting on Freezac's large barrel chest, he noticed a glinting object appear in the thawing remains of Darian's scattered giblets. On closer inspection it turned out to be one of his knives, which had somehow survived being snap frozen and shattered. Rod twiddled the blade between his fingers, glancing between it and Freezac.
It's funny, he thought, in the end the two psychopaths, Darian and Freezac, really did kill each other. In a sense.

Rod tucked the knife away in his fanny pack, resumed his seat on Freezac's corpse, and retrieved the perspiring cold beer from his jaw, cracking it open with a hiss.

Duffel bag:
1x sleeping bag
1x kerosene lamp
1x portable radio
1x mystery canned food
1x beer

Fanny pack:
1x Darian's dagger
1x lighter
4x sterilising agents
2x fast-acting painkillers
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x sensory neuro-boosters
1x oxygenated and condensed blood (O-)
1x tranquillisers
1x withdrawal medication
1x unlabelled

[Demonjazz]

Rain, it was a common occurrence on Dorth. As The Kid ate an apple in the branches of a weeping willow, it was somewhat comforting. It was coming down hard though, and the rising waters beneath him didn't inspire much confidence in the landscape. An Earthian certainly would find such a landscape deadly, harsh, and intolerable, but from above the marsh, it looked almost peaceful.
Almost that is, the marsh appeared to have seen better days. The volcanic ash appeared to have weakened many of the trees, many of which were already dying. Without the trees here, the area would... Well there's no real telling what would happen to it. Iris had never heard of a place losing it's trees. There were tales about the times on Earth and he even saw more minor scale destruction under the Galatras, but an entire ecological region destroyed because of it. It was unthinkable. Iris chucked his apple core into water below as he swung himself to a taller tree.
The freefall through the air. It was something that he wished more Earthians could feel. It was exhilariating to feel nothing beneath you as you trusted yourself to have not undershot. The Kid's feet ached as he made his way up the tree. There was all this walking, and running, and sprinting. He brought out another apple from the bag he had found in the plains. He carefully cored the apple and split it in half. He spread a paste across it, made from lichens, berries and bits of grubs. It had the same consistency of peanut butter, but tasted somewhat similair to a mollasess. It was a decent meal. He had definetly eaten worse.
Memories mingled in Iris's mind as he remembered the first days he had set up his hide-away cabin. Kalindor, one of the few comrades that he could trust knowing this location, was supposed to come by and bring in food. As the sun started to set after a hard day's work there was still no food. mind a flutter with thoughts that Kalindor might be dead and The Kid set off to get his own food. Just for him to find Kalindor screaming as he carried a fifty pound sack of potatoes in his arms, and running from a swarm of potato bugs the size of panthers. The high pitched screams as he carried the limp sack that was spilling it's contents on the ground as he ran was practically comical until Kalindor started running towards The Kid. Him and Kalindor spent a good three hours trying to get those bugs off their tails just to have a single potato left, and a giant pile of a bug meat at their feet. That stew was about as disgusting as the hard tack that Kalindor had brought unable to find any other rations to get.
A drone buzzed up towards The Kid as he munched on his food. He wondered if Kalindor was watching. He hadn't been able to talk to him before he left. He was a good comrade, Iris heard that he got himself a wife while he was living in the forests. He took a sip from his canteen as he heard the drone struggle against the wind and rain. He held his canteen up to the camera "Pour one out and send a tweet if you hate the fact that innocent people are fighting for your entertainment."
The camera buzzed off angrily having detected 'subversive dialogue' as Iris started to tie himself to the tree so that he could settle in for the night.

[The JoJo]

Chapter V - Breather

"Just three left already?" Keuna said, rapping her long fingernails on the desk impatiently. "We're not even on day three yet. What will the sponsors say?"

"We weren't expecting Rod to actually manage to kill both of the serial killers, but it did go down a treat with the audience." John noted. "#BringJayHome has been trending on the Intergalactic Network for the last few hours. Oh, and we have an electromagnetic storm brewing up, probably will break the day after tomorrow. Do you want to warn them?"

"No." Keuna shook her head. "Let it be a surprise."


~

By the time the third day broke, the clouds had cleared and the sun shone more brightly than ever. The sea lapped gently at the southern coastline, providing the perfect weather for sailing.


Present locations:

Rod Collins - Treacherous isles
The Kid - Dense forest
Trin - Abandoned colony

And the dearly departed:

Thalia - Took a long fall
Atticus - Hoist by their own petard
Antophila - Close encounter of the tentacle kind
Drud Dasner - Beheaded by a tree
Darian McIntyre - Betrayed
Freezac - Battered by a corpse of his own making



All right, looks like there's no match-ups this round, so let's make it a short one. You've got a week to write something about what your character does on the third day, the prompts will be coming out shortly.

[Demonjazz]

The weather was pleasant, with the dense canopy above, you couldn't tell what the sky was above but the air despite being muggy from the last day had a pleasant feel to it. A The Kid swung from branch to branch. He couldn't help but smile among the great redwoods of this forest. Moss clung to the branches and the familiar slickness that it gave the hardwood was pleasantly familiar. The trees were certainly not as big as the ones on Dorth, but still. He was glad that somewhere on the planet could have a reasonable forest.
If he had come to this planet under different terms he perhaps would have wished to stay some time on this island, he hadn't seen such a diverse island before, and it was said that nature was particularly vicious. Perhaps his time on Dorth had spoiled him but he wasn't seeing it. The insects were rather small and the mammals while quite large were often easily avoided. He had taken a snake on that was particularly nasty. Reptiles, nasty creatures. Important to eat every bit that you can or it would be most distressing luck. He swung from one branch to another when he saw something among the trees.
A treehouse, not a Dorthan carved house that was more naturalistically look to it, but a house none the less. Iris hadn't slept in a proper shelter since he got here, a cave one night, the ground the next, a tree last night. That one was particularly hellish on the back so he was looking forward to the sleep.
He entered the house through the window, the floor was made of bare and very rough wood. Something that weathered several storms. The room was bare except for a corner in which a camper chair sat. Next to it was a couple of empty cans, and a hypodermic needle. "Someone's been tweaking in between matches." The gambler would have been the obvious choice, but that particular person wouldn't have been able to hide the drugs they were taking. It'd have to be someone that could keep it under wraps during the interviews... Wait no, The Father said something about performance enhancing drugs during the interview. The Kid wracked his brain for a second. Rod? Yeah, Rod. What a strange man. Probably has a death wish. He could have just hired a private detective to find his son for him. Broke perhaps? Still there were better ways to search for your son.
The Kid put his thoughts as he hung up the snake to dry, and fell into the chair, and snacked on the remaining contents of his bag. One deserved a good night's sleep before their death though most did not. Iris used to sleep a lot of fitful nights in the forest with a rifle in his hands. His teen years were full of them. He could sleep a lot better now. He did wish that he had a rifle though.

[Viirin]

Trin at the Abandoned Colony

Trin knew that the fully organic life forms that he was hunting needed to sleep, but his mechanical components did not. Rest sometimes because he was both, but he marched on as much as he could without risking it affecting him.

It didn't take long before he found corpses in the abandoned colony. The other trees were very helpful, but the mammals and... reptile? had moved faster than he did. If he was going to hunt them down with any effectiveness, then he couldn't just keep going where they already were, even if he did have thousands of spies.

He had to go where they were heading, so their paths would cross. But Freezac's corpse was now in front of him, and that was the highest quality fertilizer than he had seen available thus far.

The "higher flora", or free-thinking bushes, superstructures, groundswell and trees, were not present in the clearing in front of the building. It was a patchwork of cement, asphalt, and cobblestone, almost as if it was done in a rush and with the cheapest possible materials on-hand from various donation sources. There were little tufts of grass, some weeds, and a flower or two, but nothing with an opinion.

The plants that could think had given permission- this was a good place after all. However, something more might be a good idea. Some of the trees said that there was a hot area that kept growing, and if that heat could be reduced then it would be good. With only one acorn, Trin had to make use of what he saw before but didn't bother with. The time wasn't right, the materials weren't ready. Now they were, and were on-hand!

An old bag of musty, somewhat mildewy Pistachios (https://cdn.the-scientist.com/assets/articleNo/64526/aImg/27659/tree-l.jpg) was picked at. A couple of the seeds in the back of the bag were good enough to recover at least partially, and a toolbox sitting on a table had some seed packets in it. The packages on the removable top tray were unrecoverable, as were the ones in the bottom, but the middle tray had a packet of Morning Glories (https://www.edenbrothers.com/store/media/Seeds-Flowers/SFMOR115-1.jpg) that weren't fully ruined from exposure and time.

After acquiring a matching... somewhat, at least, decorative shoulder pad, Trin decided to quickly drag Freezac's corpse out into the open, and plant his seed in a convenient hole that someone else had gifted him with. It was finally time to rest for at least a little while, before moving on to hunt some more.


Trin's equipment:

Bio-mechanical Acorn (used to complete mission objective)
Decayed Dynamite Tree Seedpod (used as crafting component)
Katana (used as crafting component)
Drud Drasner's severed and skinned face (used to create right decorative shoulder pad)
Freezac's severed and skinned face (used to create decorative left shoulder pad)
Drud Drasner's handgun (unknown amount of bullets)
An item (Special weapon that doesn't need to be described but GM knows about)
Grand Flower Tree Seed (morning glory / pistachio / Freezac parts used to create it)
Dynamite Katana (katana with a rapier's handle guard but has a special attack)

[Garjel_blah]

After spending the night in a leaky old bunkhouse, in the empty common room of which he supped on the second and final canned meal (more apricots, as it turned out), Rod made his way to the colony shorefront. He figured a boat could give him a significant advantage, even an unpowered yacht. It was, after all, excellent weather for sailing.

Stepping out onto the docks, Rod saw a few vessels lashed in the marina and moored out in the bay, but it was something altogether stranger that caught his eye the most. Out in the middle of the bay was a collection of small islands, and spanning the water between them and the docks was a long, thin tract of...
"Ice?"
Rod waded into the water and rubbed the smooth clear surface of the strange bridge. It was slippery, and emanated cold into the surrounding water. Ice indeed.
"Must've been that Freezac fella yesterday. If he and Darian came from that island... They might not've left anything behind for me. On the other hand, could be safer there."
He gave the ice bridge a hard shove, testing its stability, then carefully climbed atop it, thick limbs splayed awkwardly to maintain balance on the rounded surface. Despite a day of warm seawater it seemed to bear his weight just fine, though the rounding seemed like a clear sign of erosion. Peering out across the bay, Rod attempted to gauge the distance to the islands.
"Eh... Only about a k. Not a long walk."
The soft slap of waves receded behind him, as Rod began to slowly walk out into the open water across Freezac's melting ice bridge.

It was a strange sensation, standing on a solid yet barely visible surface in the middle of a massive expanse of water. The way the water occasionally lapped at Rod's ankles and obscured the path ahead entirely only made things trickier, and he was hit by vertigo more than once. And, on top of all that, was the lurking suspicion that some of Feral Island's infamous fauna might inhabit this shallow bay. He searched for them in the obscure depths to his left and right, but ended up surprising himself at about the midpoint of the bridge by walking right on top of one.
"Holy ffff-fishcakes!"
Rod lost his balance and almost slid straight into the water, as a massive round eye glared up at him from just where he'd been about to tread. Surrounding the eye was a bulbous octopoid head, behind which trailed an arsenal of thick flushed, tentacles. Rod backed away, dropping his duffel bag and impulsively clutching his fanny pack. However as he moved, he noticed a strange flicker of the sunlight on the creature's eyeball. This was followed shortly by the realisation that it was entirely motionless.

"Hah," Rod chucked, realisation dawning, "you're frozen. Freezac, that dumb bastard, he walked right over you and froze you solid! Gave me a right shock though."
He knelt down gradually, peering into the single staring eye. It was easily the size of his head. As for the head... Rod thought that standing up inside it might be a stretch, but there was no doubt that it could swallow him whole.
"Colossal beast. And those tentacles... Wait."
A flicker of motion caught Rod's eye. One of the tentacles was shifting relative to the others. It was a slow shift, but rhythmic, following the ebb and flow of the waves.
"Looks like some of you is starting to thaw, big guy. Not long til you're fully out of here I reckon. Though might be too late for you, being frozen for days."
Rod continued to regard the octopus thing and it's one free tentacle. Slowly, prompted by the rumbling of his underfed stomach, an idea formed in his head. It would only be a matter of time before something came along and started nibbling on this loose morsel, in fact it was surprising that nothing had done so already. So why not let it be Rod Collins? Couldn't be too sure when his next meal would come, after all.

Rod pulled off his shirt and shoes, but retained his shorts and fanny pack, slipping a hand into his fanny pack to remove the knife that he'd taken from Darian. It would only be a quick swim, he thought. The tentacle isn't too far below the surface, a couple of metres give or take. Just need to swim down there, slice me some sushi, swim back up. Free meal, easy as that.
"Okay... Here goes. Sorry big guy, but a man's gotta eat!"
He leapt into the water

To an outside observer (which there of course was, this being a TV show) things would have started to become concerning after the first minute of Rod's dive. Holding one's breath for an entire minute is not something that most humans are comfortably capable of, after all. At two minutes in the intrigue was really starting to peak, so the game organisers quickly deployed their underwater cameras. Through the murky ocean water they were greeted with the following sight; a half-naked middle-aged man with a bright red tentacle constricting his throat, below a shimmering ceiling of ice, and above an inky void of ocean. The tentacle is badly scarred all across its rubbery length, but no matter how many times the man swings and saws with his knife he can't seem to penetrate with enough depth to sever the thing. From the man's chest protrudes a hypodermic needle, labelled "oxygenated and condensed blood (O-)", and it is the effects of this needle in his aorta that are the sole reason he hasn't passed out from strangulation yet. But minute three is approaching completion, and a new set of blood won't last him forever. Presently, he reached for another needle with his free hand. For a moment his finger flicker over the unlabelled metal casing, before settling on the one labelled "sensory neuro-boosters". In one fluid, practised motion he pops the cap and plunges it into his thigh.

Sensation within Rod spiked suddenly. The suckers pinching his neck, and ice cold water churning about him, the fire in his lungs - all exploded into newfound levels of clarity in his mind. However, with pupils dilated to their maximum and a sense of balance known not even to the most graceful athlete, Rod could perceive his surroundings with the same level of clarity. The tentacle squirmed above him, he could see that, feel it even. He'd made swipes already, but they'd been random and panicked. Now, it made so much more sense to just put the blade right... Here!

The camera caught Rod's bare arm suddenly lash out like a sea snake, reaching up over his head and embedding its blade into the icy crook of the tentacle. The rubbery appendage spasmed, but held fast. It took a follow-up yank and twist to force the knife into and around the width of the tentacle, ripping out nerves and connective tissue like stuffing from a toy. Still, surely by some reflex, the tentacle held. Not that it mattered, as only a couple more expert strokes later had fully severed it from the frozen body, freeing its prey along with it. Rod kicked for the surface, knife in hand, various drug vials poking out of his body, and a tentacle dangling from his throat.

Once back on the ice bridge, Rod lay for a while, curled up in the shallow melt water. With hoarse, heaving breaths he attempted to recover his unnaturally strained lungs. At the same time he shielded his sensitive eyes from the bright sun, and rolled languidly in an attempt to balance his exposure of burning insolation and freezing ice bath. Once more, with shaking fingers, he reached into his fanny pack.

The painkillers seemed to do the trick, balancing out the painful side-effects of his neuro-booster, and discomfort in his lungs. Weakly, he felt at the severed tentacle, pinching suckers one by one from his skin.
"At least... I get... Calamari..."
He splashed the shallow water in front of his face in a meagre, yet potent, display of triumph.

Duffel bag:
1x sleeping bag
1x kerosene lamp
1x portable radio
1x beer
1x severed tentacle

Fanny pack:
1x Darian's dagger
1x lighter
4x sterilising agents
1x fast-acting painkillers
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x tranquillisers
1x withdrawal medication
1x unlabelled

[The JoJo]

Chapter VI - The Next Step

The anticipation in the studio audience had reached fever pitch. Several Trin fans had had to be taken out after they had tried to start a fistfight with the Iris contingent, while the Rod fanbase were quitely literally on the edge of their seats. As the advertisements began to roll across the galaxy, John Hoxha took the opportunity to slip back into the control room and chug down a pair of wake-me-up pills with a glass of chilled water.

"How's the weather looking?" he asked the bored-looking technician.

"Solar storm has calmed down a little, doubt it will break tomorrow."

"Very well. We need something to happen, though. What else do you have?"

"Want the volcano blow its top?"

"Why not," John said, wishing he had brought his headache pills with him. "They're dying for a show out there, let's give it to them."


Present locations:


Rod Collins - Lighthouse
The Kid - Light forest
Trin - Dense forest


And the dearly departed:


Thalia - Took a long fall
Atticus - Hoist by their own petard
Antophila - Close encounter of the tentacle kind
Drud Dasner - Beheaded by a tree
Darian McIntyre - Betrayed
Freezac - Battered by a corpse of his own making





All right, looks like there's no match-ups this round again. Write whatever you feel like, the prompts will be coming out ASAP. Oh, and if it wasn't obvious from the above post, the volcano is no longer an accessible zone. Well, unless you enjoy being engulfed in molten lava.

[Garjel_blah]

The islands proved quite empty, as Rod quickly discovered. Even the vegetation seemed to have been burned off very recently. So, after a day of unfruitful exploration, Rod settled down to sterilise and roast up his hard earned calamari meal over a camp fire. The next day he attempted to walk back to the colony.

This plan was disrupted when Freezac's ice bridge finally gave out when he was only half way across. Rod teetered atop his broken chunk of ice, muscles tensed at the thought of all the horrible tentacled monsters that lurked in wait of him slipping off. He drifted for an hour or so, swept out of the bay by a receding tide that was made choppy by an approaching storm, until his platform collided suddenly with a submerged sea stack. This happened only a hundred or so metres out from the lighthouse headland, which Rod swam as fast as possible with his duffle bag in tow.

Rod managed to break into the lighthouse just as the thunderstorm was beginning in earnest. He didn't find much of use amongst the walls of machinery, only an empty military-looking crate that looked as though it had once housed some serious fire power. "Sweet saviour. Hope I don't have to fight whoever got their hands on that."
Rod spent the night perched next to the inactive spotlight at the top of the lighthouse, drinking his last beer for dinner, which he hesitantly washed down with his last withdrawal medication.
"Well, that's it." Rod mumbled up to the rumbling sky. "From now on I'm going to have to just tough it out, maybe use the last painkillers if things get unbearable. Hell, tranqs might even do the trick. Unless... But no. Shouldn't matter anyway. This can't last more'n a couple days longer."

The highlight of his evening was when the distant volcano exploded, creating a tremor that shook dust from the ceiling of his old tower. The sky-high cloud of ash crackled with hot angry lightning, adding to the unabated storm.

Duffel bag:
1x sleeping bag
1x kerosene lamp
1x portable radio

Fanny pack:
1x Darian's dagger
1x lighter
3x sterilising agents
1x fast-acting painkillers
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x tranquillisers
1x unlabelled

[Viirin]

Trin in the Dense Forest

While Trin scouted and tried to lie in wait as still and silent only either a tree or machine could, which he was both, something sparked, and his vision was blurry.

"It's cold. Maybe I should have taken the thing off when he was getting his face sliced in half. Like, my face is really cold", the viewer said to his friend sitting next to him in their educational facility's recreation room.
"Same thing happened to me, man."
"Yeah, but you should have known better. Drud got it first. How was I supposed to know this new tech kept working after the broadcast target died?"
"I don't feel sorry for you. I mean, you didn't shut it off or anything when you fell asleep. Guess that woke you up, eh?"

Trin never had one of the devices that allowed the audience to see through his eyes. His eyes weren't the only part of himself that could see, being what he was. However, a replication error caused the wooden shields on some of his nanytes to misfire and incorporate things they shouldn't. His screaming decorative armor's installations were beginning to become part of himself, and it didn't feel right.

A little light on the side of the viewer sitting haphazardly on the coffee table began to blink. Out of simple curiosity, one of the boys that had just been arguing put it on.
"Whoa, holy ****! Trin's broadcasting!"
"Wait, what?"
"Put on Drud's. Or Freezac's. Their channels merged. It's all just Trin now."
"Oh, that's freaky. He doesn't have hair. He has willow leaves, and all of them can see. He can see in every direction!"
"Yeah, but-"
"Well, duh the eyes work better."
"Didn't he steal a gun off Drud? I saw him do it when I was Drud."
"Flex. Heh, just flex."


Dynamite Tree Cyberkatana
a single use item
a new seed
a mysterious lack of a pistol

[Demonjazz]

A lot of time had passed, and not a whole lot of fight. The Kid was getting jittery. Not because he particularly wanted to fight, his stub of a finger was a testament to that. But because he knew that TV execs were not patient. And if there wasn't blood than there wasn't show, and if there wasn't a show than someone was going to have to make one. The dark red cloud that hung over the landscape was a testament to that.
Why would someone even blow up the volcano? There were no fireworks, no one died. Are people really that so easily entertained? Just blow something up for the hell of it, I guess. It had to cost millions of dollars to set up that explosion.
Iris drank some make-shift tea out of a tin can. He wasn't a fan of rose hips, but it helped take the edge off. Knew a man who drank rosehip tea for over three months at an arctic outpost. He could barely stand the sight of rosehips after that.
Iris's mind wandered as he almost tripped over a pole in the ground. A hardy canvas tent was battened down harshly, it looked old and worn, but the canvas still stood even with the rains. It was large, could have contained possibly five people or more lying down.
The inside of the tent was still dry, there was bits of cloth and other disposed pieces. It was eerily still, it looked like animals had not ventured in here for some time. The Kid overturned what appeared to be a rock at first, but as he picked it up, it became quite clear what it was, a human skull. Or at least a humanoid one, it looked like something had smashed it some time ago, but it was an unmistakable sight even in its poor state. "Alas Poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio. A fellow of infinite jest and most excellent fantasy."
A drone buzzed outside eagerly. "A bit tackless, I know. The Bard is a bit overrated, he's great, don't get me wrong. But a lot of people miss out on a lot of other good playwrights. Sartre, Camus, Glorbox 97. Tennessee Williams if you ever need something to fall asleep too." The Kid let out a small laugh "I kid, but only a little. Can't believe they actually made me watch A Streetcar Named Desire in school. I mean America doesn't even exist anymore. Classical authors, pfft, blow me." The fact The Kid was talking so casually talking him alerted him a bit. He was always quiet even when he was a kid. He thought that maybe the solitude was finally starting to get to him, but it was more than that. Nothing good would come from a bored audience, he hated that he was helping the corporate bastards that made this but when they blow up volcanoes for fun, what are you gonna do? The Kid went back into the tent, finding a book with yellowed pages.
Iris squatted and showed it to the drone camera while reading the title. "Fraternizing with Demons by Emeraldine." He opened it and carefully turned some pages trying not to damage the frail aged paper. A small but perceptible blush rushed across his normally stoic face.
"The first chapter is rather explicit. Here's a pause for anyone who wants to brace themselves or back out if you want. If you're a kid, I'd recommend staying. Make sure you're parents aren't watching though. You've got to learn about this stuff someday, and your parents probably won't tell you anything. "
The Kid started to read the book to his audience. It was trashy, and he wasn't a particularly good reader, but... It was fun.

[The JoJo]

Chapter VII - The Penultimate Fight

The next morning, the sky retained its unnatural red glow as ash settled across the island. Swarms of tiny cameras barely visible to the naked eye flocked towards the north east coast in the wake of Trin, eagerly awaiting the next confrontation. They wouldn't have long to wait.

Present locations:

Rod Collins - Light forest
The Kid - Mystery ruins
Trin - Mystery ruins

And the dearly departed:

Thalia - Took a long fall
Atticus - Hoist by their own petard
Antophila - Close encounter of the tentacle kind
Drud Dasner - Beheaded by a tree
Darian McIntyre - Betrayed
Freezac - Battered by a corpse of his own making

So our third match-up is as follows:

The Kid vs Trin



All right, looks like we've got our third match-up! Get your votes in while they're still hot! Prompts will be sent out tomorrow morning.

[Demonjazz]

The Kid stopped at a massive stone structure. The inside was much larger than any of the tree-born houses of his planet, the massive ceiling towering above him as high up as a canopy of trees. It must have brought thousands of people from around the world to see this magnificent structure when it was first made. Now the cold marble stood as a reminder of the cruel machinations of time. Iris stopped by a crude statue of what he guessed was a sun god from the rays of light expelled from the creature’s strange head.
The Kid knelt down and prayed. Though prayer was considered a solitary activity on Dorth, as he heard the whir of the drones behind him and the desolate shadows of the temple he felt the need to say a few words.
“To the spirits that were worshipped, I offer apologies. The spirits should not be forgotten, and neither should their people. I hope that one day, we will remember you, and pay back our transgressions ten fold. It is not much, but please accept this humble offer.” The Kid set a handful of obsidian arrowheads onto the decayed altar.
Iris got up slowly from his kneeling position as he went to investigate the rest of the cathedral.

He ended up on top of a lower ceiling, he assumed this was a priest’s quarters from the way the rooms were set up. He enjoyed a breeze as he looked onto the rolling hills surrounding the cathedral, the grass waving in the breeze. He watched carefully though as he saw something crest the hill which had to be no more than a hundred meters in the distance. It looked like a tree, but… Oh… Iris’s stomach turned. That’s just sick. The Kid grabbed his bow and aimed his shot. Released the shot. His arrow thudded into the ground a yard from Trin. He drew back another as he aimed at the tree.
!?!
Trin thought he was being stealthy, but the bone that penetrated into the ground in front of him proved that was incorrect. Attempting to look in the direction it came from... where did it come from? That was a strange angle.
Another arrow let loose striking the lower half of Trin's leg. Iris quickly repositioned himself so that his back was facing towards the setting sun. He crouched behind a ruined raise in the roof as he tried to formulate a plan.
Disgusting! Now that Trin had figured out where it came from, he was enraged by the fact that someone's bone was used to make a weapon, and he was stabbed with it. Up on top of the tower was someone calling themselves "The Kid". A stupid name if ever there was one. His self-proclaimed moniker spelled his own premature death. Can an old man be called "The Kid"? No, he can't. Stupid boy stabbing him with his people's own body parts. Then again, this is why he crafted the armor he did.

Looking at the tower, he tried to figure out a way up. The only thing he could think of at the moment was using his special single-use weapon to get at least part of the way up, since it wasn't created to be able to go the entire distance. It should have been a single 20 foot burst horizontally. He swung the chain around in a circle, gaining momentum, and let it loose towards The Kid, holding only onto the end of the ion-propulsed spike. It stabbed into the marble, shattering some of it, but acting like a grappling hook, at least partially. There was still a distance to go.
The Kid was about to ready another arrow when suddenly he heard a rocket rise up and crush into the rock next to him. His shoulder was barely missed by the large spike.
He let out a small yelp, and released another into the ready approaching robotic tree.(edited)
Trin's nanytes began incorporating the wood and obsidian sticking into its chest just as they had already begun doing the same to the one stuck in his foreleg. Berserk at the gangly human, he swung his sword at The Kid's head, attempting to gain a kneepad just as Drud and Freezac had given him shoulder pads.
The Kid dodged out of the way, but with the increased weight of Trin near him, the decaying floor gave way underneath him. The two fell through the floor of the building. He landed with a crack as he fell through the remains of a table below, sharp pain in his side. A rib was broken for sure, but there was a more pressing matter at hand.
He needed to stall, he needed to think. He got up and ran into another room. His breathing was heavy, and his mind was cloudy as he ran from his opponent. "Why do you even want to kill me!?!" The Kid accosted the nanite creature. "What's your problem! I've always given back to the trees, I stopped one of the biggest logging operations on my planet, ever!" Iris shouted back to his pursuer as he climbed further downwards through a small hole in the floor.
Trin had given chase nearly immediately after falling, but something was going wrong with the arrows as they were being broken down and incorporated. Apparently, nanytes made of obsidian did not function well, and woods of the two planets were not compatible. He scrambled to try and continue running with less than half the balance needed to even crawl, but The Kid was effortlessly gaining distance.
"Stupid child. You entered a deathmatch. When you signed up, you should have thrown away everany and lall notioughts of anyone sparing yopeace. O-o-o-o-of course thisssssss-" Trin's leg disintegrated from about two inches both above and below where the arrow had struck, and there was a softball-sized hole in his chest surrounding where the other arrow had been.
"But why do you even care! You're not being hunted! You don't have someone to avenge! You don't even want wealth or fame or power! You just want to destroy!" The Kid shouted back without even thinking. He stopped and caught his breath, the combination of damage, running, and the sickly sight of Trin had him throwing up into a corner. "****." Iris rested his head against the wall, "I don't think they heard any of that." He moved his way to the entryway into the main cathedral. He leaned against a large pillar in the main corridor as he walked between the aisles of decayed wood seats.
The Kid brought out a piece of flint as he started to think about his next move.
Iris brought a handaxe as he started to tear apart the wooden pews. Throwing with some difficulty, the wood into a large pile in the center. Worry and pain crowded his mind, but as he took a piece of wood and smashed into pieces with a heft from his axe; his mind started to clear. There was a saying on Dorth. The mind was like a blade, it needs to be sharpened, but the blade is of no use if you can’t dull it as well. The Kid heartily kicks a seat several feet in the air as it lands into the pile with a crash, Taking another decayed plank and breaking it over his knee. He takes one half of the pulpit in his hand and smashes it in half with two strikes from his axe.
In about two minutes time, a bonfire was made in the middle of the hall, light reflecting off the shadowed pillars. Iris keeping his energy up banged the flat of his axe across several of the pillars before stopping in front of the main shrine to what he believed was a sun god. He stooped and laid down his bows and arrows. “I’m sorry for what I am about to do, but it must be done.”
Iris stood with his axe and his manifold blade drawn. “Come on out! I know you’re there! I ran for the last three years, and I’m not gonna run away anymore! If I am to die than I am to die!” Iris stood framed against the raging fire as he looked furiously into the shadows surrounding him.
He pounded his axe into the pillars more furiously. He was fighting a giant robotic tree, he should be able to hear them coming from a mile away, but he couldn’t hear anything other than a roar of the fire. “Come on! I’m burning all of your precious freaking tree brethren! Aren’t you angry! Come fight me lik-” It was like in slow motion. Trin burst through the wall, sputtering and sparking as his body reconstituted itself. His sword slicing through the air wildly in search of a target. Barely in time, Iris blocked with his handaxe just enough to redirect the blow into the ground.
But just as he was about to make a returning blow, another cybernetic tree follows after him. Unbeknownst to the Dorthan, the long wait was the nanyte machine carefully growing a new machine to help in his fight. This newly born child surged forward on unsure legs, not carrying the cybertronic DNA of his father, the child was slimmer, and less hardy having not yet adapted to any of the harsh conditions of his father. As The Kid was still in shock from this new development, the child with strength far surpassing human delivered a devastating uppercut into Iris sending him back several feet. Almost tumbling into the bonfire.
“****!” Iris felt himself bleed from underneath his heavy layers. A loose splintered plank had tore through his protection as he slid across the ground. He could feel inch long sections of wood stuck in his back as the two trees continued to run towards him.
He got up, fueled only on adrenaline as he ran towards one of the six pillars in the room. The young one unafraid cut through the fire. Barreling forward as his father went around to form a pincer attack.
“****, I hope this actually works!” As the fiery newborn charged forward, Iris grabbed onto a rope hanging from the ceiling and ran across the side of the pillar wrapping the rope around it. As he let go and swung himself towards another arch on the other side of the room, the newborn slammed into the decaying stone pillar and cut the rope in two.
Iris was already halfway through a jump when he heard a BANG! Come from one of the trees. A bullet ripped through his lower leg. Smoke emitted from between the shoulder blades of Trin. A keen viewer would know that this was from a gun that was stolen from the late Drud Drasner and incorporated into his body.
As Iris’s jaw smashed into the arch that he was aiming for, he knew that it was BULL****! Barely able to catch himself, he clung onto one of the nearby pillars. Trin turned around his prey tried to scramble upwards with his injured leg. The robotic tree sparked as he stabbed into the pillar. The lower half of the pillar exploded along with the blade, it came tumbling down. Iris tried to outpace the crumbling rock, but the pillar came crashing down into the pillar next to it. With quick thinking though, he jumps and stabs his manifold blade into the approaching pillar. The Monomolecular blade working as piton in the marble he had just enough time to yank the blade out as he jumped to another pillar.
“****, ****, ****.” One half of his body worked on wrapping the bleeding wound on his leg. He felt lightheaded as he saw the two trees climbing up the remaining pillar on this side of the room. His hands quickly made their way across the arch. Grabbing onto a cylindrical stone rod, he rocked back and forth. If you make this jump, Iris. Then you’re going to take that ****ing circus acrobat job.. Iris swung a whole 360 degrees around the bar as he launched himself across the room. “You can do this!” Iris shouted as he crested through the air, hanging in free fall for an agonizingly long time as his target closed in. 50 feet, 40 feet, 30 feet, 20 feet, 10, and-His right hand grips tightly onto a marble flourish, the decayed stone cracking and falling apart beneath his hand, he reached wildly with his left for the arch.
His left arm is nearly pulled out of its socket as he pulled himself in close to the pillar. Suspended he bleeds onto the pillar. The faces of Drud and Freezac were coated in blood below as The Kid repositioned his grip. He pounded his axe into the pillar. “Hey, you ****heads! Can’t even take down a little monkey man! You’re a disgrace to treekind everywhere!”
Trin started to climb up the pillar. Surprisingly fast for a creature of his size. “You ain’t ever gonna get me that way! Ook, Ook! This little monkey man ain’t coming down!” The Kid mimicked a monkey as he scratched his armpit. He scrambled to the next pillar. The other tree started stood below at the other pillar. “Come on, you know that it’d be way faster just to break it! You aren’t gonna get me this way.” The two trees exchanged glances and Iris could tell that he wasn’t much of an impact. He saw Trin make his way across to him, and the other tree waited at the bottom of the pillar. “You ain’t a coward, are you! Don’t let your dad do all of the work!”
Iris changed his position as he brought out his axe. He brought back his handaxe as he gripped with his lower feet to a platform. He waited with his axe in his hand, he had one shot and he wasn’t going to **** this up. He saw Trin make their way towards him. Trin let one of his hands go as he crossed over to another arch. This was his chance! Iris pulled back quickly and his hand axe flew through the air impacting hard against the malfunctioning tree. Sparks flying as it dug itself into the fibrous metallic wood of his hand. Trin fell to the ground, and sparked and jittered on the ground as his body tried to repair itself.
That did it. The youngling on the ground floor hit the pillar hard. Smashing it into another pillar. Ready for this, Iris grabbed the top of the pillar and ran up the pillar as it crashed into the next. Jumping dramatically to the top of the next pillar. He rode the falling pillar towards the entrance.
The Kid hit the ground running as the roof started collapsing above him. Whole sections falling apart behind him as his opponents were trying to lurch out the door but as they closed in, the door collapsed beneath them. The trees and the temple disappearing a rush of dust and debris.

Iris collapsed onto the grassy meadow. He drank carefully from his canteen as he lay panting on the ground. A drone buzzing above him. He threw a rock at the machine. “Can’t you do something useful for once, and get a medic or something!” He brought out a suture and string from his manifold blade. “Not feeling good.” Iris drank more from his canteen. He tried to force himself to sit up right but fell down instead. He drank more. “You can’t let me… die from wounds… Ugh, Viewers won’t like that.” He forced himself up again and his shaking hands removed the bandage from his leg. He brought his shaky hands and forced the needle through his skin. Iris grit his teeth hard. “At least get me something to bite down on!” He drank more from his canteen as he worked the needle through his skin. He stopped as he started to cough, blood spilling onto his clothes from his mouth. “Internal bleeding. I can’t fix that.” His shaking hands were halfway done through doing quick stitches into his leg. “But, You can live through it. Just don’t… Collapse now.” He drank more from his canteen and went back to working his leg. “Ugh. Probably can’t... reach the wounds on back. Just stay up.”

[Garjel_blah]

Daybreak saw Rod setting off from his lighthouse refuge, back into the mainland forests of Feral Island. The trees were more sparse in this region, and the air much drier. Unnatural clouds darkened the sky, raining down ash on the landscape. Rod grew wary of the possiblity of a forest fire being ignited by the volcanic debris, and kept a sharp eye out.

The need for a firewatch proved to be a welcome distraction for Rod, who otherwise found himself consumed by a sense of dread that he hadn't experienced thus far throughout the tournament. Rather than worrying about the other contestants, however, it was his own heartbeat, his own breaths, the entirity of his own metabolic system that had him afraid. Every little exertion required to place one foot in front of the other fed into this fear, for Rod knew that they only accelerated the processing of his final withdrawal medication dose. He would be lucky if he made it through the next day without experiencing symptoms.

His alertness payed off in another, less sombre way. As he walked through an open field, Rod noticed something peculiar beside him. Flecks of ash, which had dusted everything with a layer of greyish white, seemed to be suspended mid air above the grass. It was so subtle that he could have easily walked right past it without even realising. Rod approached cautiously, his boots nimbly seeking out patches of grass that would muffle the sound of his passage. Reaching out, Rod touched one of the hovering ash flecks.

The square metre or so of air directly in front of him distorted weirdly in response to his touch, dislodging it's ash coating. The grey coating slid down to the ground at an angle, following some strange invisible contour, and at that moment Rod realised, with some wonder, what he was looking at. A length of adaptive camouflage fabric had been strung up on the middle of the field, like a tent. It had blended in with the ground perfectly, but the falling ash had piled on top of it and broken the illusion. Rod groped at the side of the tent, feeling his way around it until he found an entrance flap, which he yanked open.

The tent was smaller than he had anticipated, more like a cloak that had been improvised as a tent. Someone his size wouldn't be able to fit inside at all, it was more suited to a child. It was empty, devout even of grass. It must have been sitting here for quite some time.

Rod thought, before he could stop himself, that the tent could have comfortably housed his boy Jay. Well, it could've a few months ago. Who knows how much he's grown since...

Rod uprooted the tiny tent, causing it's camouflage to disrupt into a fuzzy brown-green pattern. He became abruptly aware of a camera drone, staring at him expectantly from across the field. At first Rod avoided it's gaze, the adaptive camouflage fabric clutched tight in his large fists. Then he forced himself to look the camera in its glittering lens.

"Jay," he began, "I've kept pretty quiet so far, been pretty well fully focussed on getting myself out of here alive. But if you're watching, I have to tell you... I'm gonna have to ask you to stop."
Rod pulled the fabric over his shoulders, fastening it like a cloak around his neck.
"I've run out of medication. For my withdrawal symptoms. I'm not sure what's going to happen now, but I'll be honest with you, I'm afraid. I don't want to die. Worst still, I don't want to have to become what I used to be. But most of all, I don't want to fail you. So just... Look away. Stop watching. I don't want you to see what happens next. You've seen too much already."

Rod pulled a camo hood over his head. He was about to turn away from the camera, but hesitated, looking back once more.
"I love you son. No matter what happens next, that's always gonna be true."
As he turned around to continue on his way the cloak began to take effect, melding his form into the long grass. The camera attempted to follow him, but quickly became confused by the shimmering and shifting grass.

Rod had vanished from the Sunstorm live feeds.

Equipped:
1x Adaptive camouflage cloak

Duffel bag:
1x sleeping bag
1x kerosene lamp
1x portable radio

Fanny pack:
1x Darian's dagger
1x lighter
3x sterilising agents
1x fast-acting painkillers
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x regenerative stem cells
1x tranquillisers
1x unlabelled

[The JoJo]

Chapter VIII - Finale

In the wake of Trin's death, an odd feeling of calm spread over the studio audience. Where nine once stood, now only two competitors remained, each heading on a path that seemed destined to meet the other sooner rather than later. As if in recognition of this, the sun storm brewing across the small red star finally burst forth, filling the evening sky over Feral Island with shimmering blue and green curtains that danced back and forth until the early hours of the next morning. Thus the stage was set for the final showdown.

Present locations:

Rod Collins - Dense forest
The Kid - Dense forest

And the dearly departed:

Thalia - Took a long fall
Atticus - Hoist by their own petard
Antophila - Close encounter of the tentacle kind
Drud Dasner - Beheaded by a tree
Darian McIntyre - Betrayed
Freezac - Battered by a corpse of his own making
Trin - Crushed by a falling temple

So our final match-up is as follows:

The Kid vs Rod Collins



This is it, folks. You know what to do.

[Garjel_blah]

Rod Collins Vs the Kid

The Kid sat on a branch high above the ground. He was staring off into the distant blue green sky as the roiling curtains danced across the evening sky. He was still queasy and ached as he looked up, but it gave him some peace that he was able to see such an amazing sight. He leaned against a tree and noisily ate an apple as he watched the fiery sky. A buzzing drone took in the sights with him framed dramatically against the sky.

"Hey, I know a lot of people are watching. It's real climatic, huh?" He tossed his apple out into the distance. "I even ran out of apples. They probably planned that, but... What I'm saying is... Mom, aunt, uncle, Kalindor, Taesar, Aster, Violet. All of my other comrades, and everyone who helped me along the way. I know that I'm not old, but it's like they say, war ages you. International symbol of resistance, my face is probably going to be on a million shirts. I had a full life. I've burned bright. And If I come to an end... Keep that flame going. Life is short. You have time to mourn, but... Get angry. I've seen hundreds die in battle. And the fight is never over. The Galataras are still out there. Be compassionate, be kind, be the change you want to see in this world."
All he could do was wait now. The Kid's face contorted, not landing on any one emotion. His lip quivered and a battle raged on his face as his emotions and him trying to look strong one last time fought. He took a deep and unsteady breath before saying "I'm scared. And I've been scared for so long."

"Me too, kid."

The gruff words came from a nearby branch on the adjacent tree. At first it seemed as though they had come from nowhere, the voice of a phantom. Then the empty air directly above the branch contorted, and was pulled aside to reveal Rod Collins, skin gleaming with sweat in the pale light if the sunstorm. In his free hand he clutched, white knuckled, a plain metal hypo.

The camera scooted back through the air, widening it's shot to capture the silhouettes of both Iris and Rod against the luminous sky. Iris jumped backwards to another tree.

"Listen, I can tell that you're raring to go, but... Can we talk, I just want to talk, you don't seem a bad man, Rod. So let's just talk."
"About what?"
Rod remained seated on his branch, following the Kid with a faintly wavering gaze. Iris relaxes.

"You know if your kid isn't dead than he's probably a criminal that hates you, right? I know you think this is some way of absolving yourself, but Jay isn't going to accept you. People aren't fans of people killing for sport."
The older man sat in silence for a minute. When he did speak, it was with slow, measured words.

"You haven't asked me anything... That I haven't already asked myself. I don't have any answers. I know where - with who - the answers can be found, but..."
Rod rolled the metal hypo in his fingers.

"Listen, I know you're dealing with all your personal baggage. I'm dealing with mine too. But I don't get you. Why resort to this tournament? To the killing. Listen, I didn't see a way out for me. I'd have to start a whole 'nother war to get what I wanted. Peace, and quiet. To never have to worry about the next day being my last... But you had that. You could have just went back to a normal life. Why would you walk away from that? I've seen people die to have a life like yours. Leave their kids for just a shot that they'd be able to just work a 9 to 5 job for the rest of their lives. And you want to give that up for a kid that probably hates you?"

"Yes!" Rod growled, then yanked a hand up to his forehead with a grimace. "Maybe? This all made so much sense before... I had to make it better. I had to do something! Sitting on my arse while my boy is lost who-knows-where? That's not a normal life, that's perdition!"

"Lost? What makes you think he's lost! You don't even know what's happened to him! What, do you think he got caught by slave traders! That he's waiting desperately for his dad while being captured by some action movie bad guys! That's not how the world works! You can't just go in gun blazes and think everybody is going to have a happy ending! He's either dead, or he doesn't want to be found! It's as simple as that. We aren't action heroes, Rod. No one is."

The Kid sat down on his tree branch, and ran his hands through his dirty hair. Before he quickly got up again, suddenly stressed out. "I hate this. I hate this. I hate all this stupid freaking reality television, bull****! Why are we even fighting! I don't want to kill you! I don't want to kill anyone! I just want to be left alone!" The Kid sat back down again. "Yunno, I read a book with similair situation once. They both threatened to commit a double suicide by eating poisoned berries. Of course real poison takes hours to kill someone, and you'd be in terrible excrutating pain before you'd die. I don't think the producers care all that much if we're both dead anyway."

Rod's wilting attention span struggled through the Kid's rant. He shrugged.
"You killed anyone so far?" he asked.
The Kid rolled a small rock between his knuckles. "17 people. Counting Atticus as one person, and not counting the trees. I'd hardly say that the trees were people. But the sentience of robots is a matter for the scholars to decide."
"Atticus and Trin?" Rod raised his eyebrows. "Not bad. I took down Freezac. And Darian, kinda. Sounds like we make a pretty even match."
"Evenly matched? You saying that you killed 16 other people before this tournament, old man!" The Kid tried to laugh but gripped harshly at his chest as he started coughing.

"I try to sound tough, but I got pretty banged up in my last fight. I gave up my bow too. Honestly, I think my luck is starting to run out. My best chance is to hope you fall while climbing between the trees." Iris continued to roll the rock between his hands "Hey, use some of your prize money to tell people about those ruins... Even if I did blow 'em up a bit."
"I saw them too," Rod said somewhat breathlessly, eyeing the Kid's rock, "landed there, in fact. Shame they're gone."
Rod turned the suspicious metal vial over in his hand.
"Truth be told, I'm not in the best shape either kid. Ran out of meds a couple of days ago. So the match, I'd say... Still pretty even."
"Well than, no use in delaying the invetiable. We are both bound to kill. Strangers with a death wish they are both too scared to fill. People back home are probably yelling at me right now about giving you an even playing field. Should have attacked you from above and used suprise." Iris sighed as he looked Rod in the eye.
"Oh well. I like you too much to do that."

Iris chucked the rock rolling between his fingers at Rod... It landed several yards short of it's target, falling inbetween the trees. Causing startled birds to fly into the sky. The Kid looked embaressed.
"... That would have hit you if we were on my planet." Iris took off jumping to another tree. Rod watched him go balefully, then attempted to get to his feet. He failed. The world spun, and only by freezing in place and breathing deep did he keep from keeling over off his branch.

There was nothing for it. Either he let in Claire, or he fainted and fell to his death. With a shamefully well practised motion he popped the lid on his blank metal hypo, and after a couple of wavering false starts, slammed it into his thigh.
Clarity rushed through Rod's veins, and for the first time in months everything made sense. It was obvious really. How could he have been so ignorant before?
He stood up on the rickety branch like a man sitting up in bed after a long and dreamless sleep. Casually, unhurriedly. He tossed the spent clarity vial over his shoulder, glanced at the retreating Kid, and opened his fanny pack. Darian's knife lay nestled within, He took it. Obviously. What else would one do in his shoes?

Rod's eyes locked onto the Kid like a hawk with satellite-assisted laser targeting. He was leaping from branch to branch, becoming ever more distant and obscured behind the haze of canopy. Nonetheless Rod followed him with his gaze, cocking his knife-wielding arm in a slow, almost languid motion.
Rod Collins threw the knife, sending it on a spinning, 45 degree parabolic arc out above the treetops. The blade glistened in the dancing sunstorm lights, whirling with a quite hiss in the empty air before beginning its descent back into the forest. Plummeting past sticks and leaves and inconspicuous fauna, unerringly down on an intercept course with the Kid. Claire never missed.

The knife struck Iris point down, right at the base of neck behind the clavicle, as he was leaping from one branch to another.

The Kid stopped for a second to catch his breath. He leaned against the tree seeing the much better in shape Rod closing in behind him quickly. For a brief second he saw a glint in the air when it hit him. He let out a yelp as he lost balance and plummeted into the trees below, his vision a whirl of greenery as he fell down. Iris smashes into a branch sending him tumbling sideways into the trunk of a tree which batted him aside, his vision blurring from pain as he grasped onto a branch. With one quick motion he used his falling momentum to fling himself back upwards, soaring into the air again he launches himself into a tree and grasps it fully. He takes out his own knife, and carefully feels near the base of his neck. He coughed up more blood.

"I told you that I had the disadvanatge bastard." He muttered as he spat out more blood into the depths below. Rod landed gracefully on the same branch, closer to the trunk. Almost as though Iris wasn't there, the drugged up old man planted a firm kick into a weathered hollow on the bark below him, snapping it.

The Kid noticed as Rod landed on his branch, he quickly leaps off and lands on another tree. "Hey, this is my element, old man. I've climbed trees twice this tall and half as wide! You ain't gonna win that easy! Plus," Iris carefully takes his knife and reaches behind him. He takes his monomolecular blade and carefuly makes a swipe near the tip of the blade in his back. He catches Darian's blade "I've got two knives now!"

Iris made an low battle stance with his two knives nearly pressing himself against the branch he looked like a panther ready to strike at his prey "On Dorth we believe that the forces of evil are actually stronger than the forces of good. That's why we value trickery so much, Rod. Good against evil has to fight for every inch gained. But you're not like that are you Rod? You are a good man, and a good man deserves an honorable fight. Is that man stronger than the evil within him, Rod?"

Rod leaped across to the Kid's branch, his eyes flitting from one knife to the other as he approached at a sideways shuffle.
"Goodness and honour," he said, sounding bizarrely matter of fact given the situation and topic under discussion, "people like to throw those words around. Think it sounds clever. But in the real world, it's the result that matters. That's why we in the Ataracian service value stimulants."

He jerked forward, fienting with a jab, then retreated a step. Iris jumped back from the feint.
"And how did that work out for you, Rod? Has it brought you any peace? Are you no different from the Galatras putting profit before the people!" Iris lunged forward aiming a knife for Rod's thigh. Rod snatched the boy's wrist, almost preemptively bringing up his other hand to block the second blade as it lashed out, locking he and Iris into a wrestle.
"I'm looking for my son," he said flatly. His eyes bored into the Dorthan's, their hyperfixated intensity leaving no room for nuance. "This is how I find him."

Iris was quickly overtaken by the larger man as they wrestled, Rod having about a hundred pounds on the teenager. The Kid barely held onto his knives as he fought. "And what kind of example are you setting for your son! Would you want your own dad to kill an innocent man for you! You're just teaching him violence! Is that the only thing you know!?" The Kid was hoping to shake his opponent with his words but if they did get through than it seemed Clare was doing the fighting for him. He wasn't going to last long if he didn't do something.
In their standing position, The Kid suddenly let his legs go out from under him as he slid he grabbed onto Rod's lower half with his feet and pushed him off the branch forcing him downwards as they fell together.

Rod pushed away from Iris as they plummeted. Just like that, his attention was elsewhere. No branches to catch. Ten to twenty metre drop. Brace for impact. Simple.

Yet he couldn't help but think, as his righted his body for maximum impact survivability, that he'd forgotten about something. The Kid had made a point. It was a point that he'd grappled with throughout the Sunstorm tournament, never quite managing to work it out. Claire had her conclusions, sure, but it was the only thing that she and Rod couldn't agree on.

It then occurred to him, as the earth grew ever closer and closer, that maybe the path Claire had brought him down made more sense than he realised. He may never recover from this fall. He'd take longer to die than unfortunate Iris, for sure, he was more injured and less tolerant of Feral Island's gravity. Would be lucky to survive the landing. Rod, as the last remaining contestant, would therefore technically win, probably. The money would go to Jay, and Rod wouldn't be around to see it happen, to mess things up any further. Simple.

Was that the plan, Claire? Maybe I shoulda given you more credit.

He hadn't even realised that he was popping open another hypodermic until the needle pricked his skin. He looked at the label, surprised. Stem cells. Rod was almost disappointed.

Then, blackness.

As Rod Collins' overstimulated brain philosophised it's way down to the forest floor, Iris was pushed away and fell through the trees, he was pushed directly into a branch unable to react in time he fell straight through it. The branch splintering and a large chunk being sent into his body, he hit another branch, an auditory crack was heard as his arm broke, as he plummeted near the end of his fall he was able to grab onto a branch. Falling too fast, it broke into half in his hand, but it slowed him just enough to survive the landing.

The Kid spluttered on the ground. He threw up to his side, blood pouring out of his mouth. He steeled himself as he could feel the enterity of a branch sticking into his side, he struggled to breath, and he could feel his heart slowing, but he still got to his feet. He started to mentally math in his head. The branch was in his lungs, blood pouring into them, he was already bleeding out fast, low on blood, the branch could have been in his heart for all he knew. Three minutes, he figured. Three minutes minutes before his heart stopped. Six more minutes before his brain lost all function. Even the fastest medical ship would take ten minutes to get from orbit to his location and get him into treatment.

"No winner today." He breathed out shallowly. He hobbled. He was looking for a good place to die. He was not going to die in his own vomit.
He started to settle when he saw Rod, the sun bathed his face as he collapsed into a ring of trees around Rod, he rested against the tallest tree. Two minutes, his addled brain counted seconds. His vision blurred as he stared at the mangled corpse that lay in front of him. 100 seconds. His eyes fluttered, but it was unmistakable. A faint flutter of the chest. He was still alive. 90 seconds. There was no firework that had gone off. 80 seconds. Iris grabbed onto the branch in his side. Maybe he could give him just a little more time. "Spirits take me." There was a push, and a sharp pain.
Than there was nothing.

A Crack, a boom. Against the aurora in the night sky, a purple light over took the sky scape. A beautiful flower could be seen across the island.

Equipped:
1x lighter
3x sterilising agents
1x fast-acting painkillers
1x self-sequencing antidote
1x tranquillisers
1x Jay Collins?
0x soul

[The JoJo]

Chapter IX - Fini

When Rod came too, he realised that something was missing even before he'd opened his eyes. The clarity had burned out of his system while he was unconscious, leaving behind a lingering, slightly detached sensation of cocksure satisfaction. Claire had done her job, and now she was gone. Hopefully for the last time.

Rod opened his eyes.

He was still in the dense forests of Feral Island, lying spreadeagle amongst the undergrowth. Figures in white scrubs surrounded him, poking his numb body with gloved hands and pointed tubes. He couldn't do much about it, his entire body was too damaged from falling out of a tree to move. There was no pain though, probably had one of the tubes to thank for that.

One of the figures (a paramedic, surely, sent by the Sunstorm bigwigs) shifted, opening up a fraction of Rod's peripheral vision. Iris was lying there, slumped against a tree trunk, blood dripping down his chin and form the multiple sticks and splinters impaling his slight frame. Dead, of course, otherwise the medics wouldn't be here.
Rod closed his eyes.

Sorry kid. I'll try to make it worth it.

Time was impossible to keep track of as Rod drifted in and out of consciousness. The first time he awoke, he was dimly aware of being strapped to a bed in what he assumed was an ascending spaceship. The second, medical staff hurrying around him, a monitor beeping in the background. The third, an unremarkable medical bay with white, sterile walls.

"Pump him up a bit more," the doctor nearby said in a low voice. "Hoxha wants him ready for the aftermath special tonight."


The next thing he knew, Rod found himself surrounded by the roar of an excited audience. John Hoxha himself, not a hologram but the man in flesh, stood before him, flashing one of his trademark grins.

"Truly, welcome, Rod Collins. Welcome at last."

Rod shielded his eyes against the bright stage lights, and found himself surprised after the fact that his arm could lift as high as his face. The limb ached down to his bones, and heavy with sedative, but it moved. Though he could feel his toes he didn't rate the chances of his legs carrying his full weight too high, and noted grimly that he'd been pushed up to Hoxha's stage in a wheelchair.

Rod stared at John, still slightly dumbstruck. His voice was hoarse when he spoke.

"It's... Done?" he croaked.

"Yes, Rod, it's done," John beamed, the audience tittering around him. "You won! How does it feel?"

"Uh..."

Rod struggled with his emotions for a moment, Iris' corpse fading in and out of his mind's eye. He was caught somewhere half way between a nervous breakdown and verbally assault his smarmy host, with the drugs in his system preventing him from doing either.

"Sore," he finally managed, grimacing tightly.

"I bet," John said, the audience laughing as if on cue. The presenter held up a hand. "But seriously, folks. Before we go to the highlights of the games, it's time for a very special moment. Rod, the government of Adelphos has promised almost anything within reason to the winner of the Sunstorm games, and you have won. What do you choose as your reward?"

Rod focused. He cleared his throat.

"I want you to find my son, Jay. Make sure he's alright." He paused for a moment. "Bring him home."

"That... that's it?" John exclaimed. "I mean, whatever else, right?" The audience murmured in agreement. Jubilant music began to blare out of nearby speakers and the presenter retreated into the background, muttering into a microphone. An attendant hurried onto stage to adjustment the placement of Rod's wheelchair, and then the cameras whirled back into life.

"Welcome back." John Hoxha gave a pearly white smile. "I've just been talking to our producers and they've promised to make every effort to find Jay. They've also very generously offered to award Rod with an additional prize of ten million credits, no strings attached."

The crowd launched into rapturous auplause, as if they themselves had been awarded the money.
"Aren't you a lucky man, Rod," John said, whistling with playful envy.

"Yeah," Rod agreed, staring around at the applauding audience obscured behind the lights. Suddenly, he felt indignant.

"Hang on," he corrected. "Lucky?"

"Two rewards! I bet you didn't expect that, right?"

"Yeah. Didn't expect to have to kill a kid to find my own either."

John opened his mouth and then shut it again, instead apparently opting for another plastic smile.
"That... that's Rod Collins, folks!" he finally blurted out, making a hand signal for the cameras to switch to the prerecorded footage.

Part of Rod's mind thought that he should snap out of it. He'd done what he came here to do, and now some very powerful people had promised him Jay. Anything he did now could only jeopardise that.

The rest of his mind, however, was on fire.

"I say something wrong?" Rod asked Hoxha menacingly, glowering across at him.

"We... we just have a brand to stick to!"

"I don't want any part in your brand. I want my son, and then I want out! You understand me?"

John opened and closed his mouth again with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights.

"You knew what you were signing up for," a woman interrupted, appearing by John's side. "You'll get your reward, at least if we can ever find the brat. But your contract clearly states that we're entitled to three appearances a year, or in your physical absence, licenced to use a deep fake of your person."

"Who the hell are you?" Rod demanded, his ire switching to the woman.

"Keanu Chase, Head Producer. A pleasure to finally meet you." The last phrase dripped with sarcasm.


Rod stared at Keanu. It felt kind if like staring at a tombstone. Though he might hate what it stood for, he couldn't help but feel deep down that his hate was futile. That the moment for any meaningful words or deeds had passed.

"You know," he said, his nerves creaking through his voice, "I thought if I made it through this blood sport, I'd feel like a winner. I'd feel good. But I don't. I just feel like I've lost - to you. You and all the rest of your type. You and the entire ****ing galaxy."

Rod bit down on his knuckle. His eyes were shining beneath his heavy, battered brow.

"Cheer up, it's not so bad," Keanu said, rolling her eyes. She stepped closer, speaking in a quieter voice. "We have all the Claire you could ever need, and much more. Stimulants so potent you won't even remember you had a son." She smiled, but her eyes remained cold as two orderlies stepped up, one of either side of Rod. "I think you're going to like it here."

Rod said nothing.

He didn't register it when Keanu and Hoxha left the room, or maybe he was wheeled from their presence. He was thinking. About a lot of things, but mainly, if I could go back, would I do anything differently?

He wasn't sure. Considering his current circumstances he thought it should be obvious, but it wasn't. He took small comfort in just one bittersweet conclusion.

At least Claire will know. She always does.


~

Chapter X - Epilogue

The Sunstorm games would continue for many years after that, but never in quite the same way. A few days after the end of the first contest, John Hoxha was found strangled by his own ponytail in his private apartment. The culprit was never found. Feral Island, meanwhile, was in time utterly transformed by the seedlings which Trin had left behind. By the time of the second games, the island had become nearly inhospitable to any non-plant lifeforms and after that, they had to be moved to a new location on the other side of the planet. As of yet, the herbal horde has not escaped the exclusion zone around the island.

And as for Rod? He would make an appearance now and again, but always refused to answer any personal questions, despite the best attempts of the paparazzi. Rumours were abound, but then rumours were the lifeblood of Velvet City. Only a select few would ever have known for certain if, one day, he had heard a knock at the door.