[center][h3][color=tan]Courier 6[/color] and [color=orange]Ratchet[/color] and [color=sandybrown]Jak &[/color] [color=darkorange]Daxter[/color][/h3]
[b]Level 6[/b] - (47/60) EXP (+3),[b]Level 6[/b] - (20/60) (+3), [b]Level 4[/b] - (12/40) (+3)
[b]Location:[/b] Hell’s Casino
Dead Zone - Ominous Tower
[b]Word Count:[/b]1251[/center]

The Courier frowned as this die-headed idiot rejected the bet, saying he didn’t want a gamble he could lose and only played to win. This rubbed the Courier the wrong way entirely and in an instant all the respect he had for a supposed kindred spirit went out the window. That wasn’t a fellow gambler at all, that was a cheater. A liar. A despot looking to extend his reach of power and influence. Not anybody the Courier would want to associate with. However he also said that he was only looking to give them some black eyes, so without any hesitation the Courier drew his revolver and whacked himself right in the face, instantly feeling the intense throbbing of a blacked and bruised eye.

[color=tan]”More’n happy to oblige ya, hombre,”[/color] he said rather plainly, but his insane antic didn’t seem to impress the giant casino manager. In fact, the man went out of his way to send the Courier into one of the portals by using a giant playing card. Gaige-Tron let out a yelp. “Master!” The automaton rolled in after him, arms already morphing into weapons. 

Inside the Courier shook his head to regain his senses, though the pounding in his eye didn’t help matters much. Then both eyes lit up in utter ecstasy as he was met with what would be his opponents: three giant glasses of living liquor, just as lively as the casino’s master. Gaige-Tron came in ready to unleash Hell, but its master held his hand out to stop it from going wild. The three glasses spoke, clearly drunk off their rockers (though 6 imagined that was likely their natural state), accusing him of not wanting to party, then the smallest one attacked. 

[color=tan]”Hombres, I don’t think you can handle my kind of party!”[/color] The Courier braced himself as a flood of rum came barreling his way. He opened his mouth wide, ready to receive it in what was probably his dumbest decision of the day (though that remained to be seen, day is still young after all). A good deal made it into his mouth, where he happily swallowed, but of course his body was flooded with the stuff and it [i]burned.[/i] The rum knocked him on his ass, not in the usual way but from the sheer force of it, and caused some damage to his skin.

“Master! I would have thought someone smart enough to make me would be way smarter than to just stand there and take that!” Gaige-Tron chided, rolling over to him and helping 6 back onto his feet. Despite it all he still had a wide, shit eating grin plastered across his face.

[color=tan]”T’ain’t nothin’ to be worried about. Now it’s an even fight!”[/color] And then Geralt appeared through the portal and chucked some sort of bomb at the three glasses. [color=tan]”Fuck! Dammit Geralt, I’ve got this!”[/color]

The bomb seemed to harm the living glasses of alcohol, but curiously it didn’t shatter them. Either they only looked like glass, or they were much more durable than normal glass due to being alive. Of course considering they looked like old holotapes of ancient cartoons, the Courier couldn’t rule out that they were just straight magical either. Regardless the three began a counterattack, specifically targeting Geralt. 

[color=tan]”Time to see how sturdy they are. Melt the martini’s stem,”[/color] the Courier ordered. Gaige-Tron squealed in delight and began firing acidic rounds from the built in Revolution straight for the martini glass’s stem, right above the base. Meanwhile, the Courier fired his revolver at the flying olive, aiming straight for the red center.

[hr][hr]

Despite everyone’s best efforts, the hordes of demons and zombies weren’t letting up and they could only last so long. Thankfully the target of their escape was night: a tall tall tower. As they approached they saw something that was a great sign of fortune, or perhaps a portent of disaster: gore, guts, and mutilation. It seemed that a small army of monsters had been killed, no, [i]brutalized[/i] in the area. But was the thing that did it friendly?

They didn’t have to wait too long to find out. From the air, Jak spotted a humanoid figure clad in high tech futuristic armor of a green color. Ratchet saw the figure in the distance as well and he was a bit concerned. Thankfully as they passed by any concerns were relieved when this armored figure up and completely ignored them, instead choosing to focus solely on the oncoming army and… Began a one man slaughter?

Jak didn’t stop to question this suicidal idiot’s motives for diving head first into a giant army of monsters. If he wanted to die so bad then fine, so long as the soldier bought them enough time to make it in the tower. Ratchet was more concerned however and wanted to double back to help the soldier, only to see with his own eyes that not only did the soldier not need any help, Ratchet would probably only get in the way. 

The Doomslayer ripped and tore his way through horrors unimaginable like wet paper, blasting some, smashing others, and using his bare hands to separate cranium from torso. The few hits he did take were instantly rendered moot as his sheer brutality created healing items on the spot. Ratchet’s eyes went big, then he relaxed and turned back toward their goal.

Meanwhile, Daxter was still running on foot barely keeping ahead of the horde behind him. [color=darkorange]”I-HUFF-HATE-HUFF-RUNNING!”[/color] He saw the green-armored figure charging straight toward him, ripping and tearing apart the forces of darkness as he went, and suddenly Daxter’s adrenaline kicked into a new gear he didn’t even know he had. The Doomslayer’s hand reached out toward Daxter’s face!

[color=darkorange]”GAH! I’M NOT WITH THEM I SWEAR!”[/color] The ottsel-turned-ent dove under the Doomslayer’s outstretched arm to safety, but he was never the marine’s real target. The gloved hand grabbed the face of the demon right behind Daxter, then tore said face clean off and shoved it down the demon’s throat, where it then had its jaw forcibly removed. Of course Daxter didn’t know any of this, for he was too busy running for his life to look backward and see that what he thought was a crazed psycho trying to kill him turned out to actually be a crazed psycho that just saved his life.

Moments later everyone had made it inside the tower, where the door was barricaded by Nico’s van as well as Donnie’s motorcycle. Jak’s light form dispersed, though he kept his morph gun at the ready just in case. Ratchet hopped off the cycle and Clank vanished. Ratchet then got to work on helping the engineer build that teleporter, partly so that it would go by faster, and partly so that he could add the same modifications he made originally to make them 2-way.

Daxter collapsed on the ground, breathing like a dead horse. [color=darkorange]”You all… Forgot me… Uuuuuuuugh.”[/color] But in a second he had caught his breath and was back in his usual animated top form. [color=darkorange]”I don’t know why anybody runs, ever. Jak, next time we have to flee a huge army of slobbering abominations, LEAVE ME THE JET BOARD!”[/color]

Jak shrugged, smiling. [color=sandybrown]”Hey, you made it, didn’t you?”[/color] Daxter’s eye twitched.