Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by KaiserElectric
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--9:54 AM, June 26th, 20XX--
--Zamindawar International Airport, Empire of Zun--


As the heat rises in force and the summer of 20XX kicks into high gear, excitement is in the air for all those connected to the mystical and ancient Nomadic community. For in late June comes the true test of skill and fighting spirit for all fighters who call themselves Nomads; the World Warriors tournament!

Hosted by the World Martial Arts Federation come rain or shine, this prestigious event draws Nomads from all corners of the world to partake in its pageantry, and while many do not have the prestige (or the cash) to participate themselves, many arrive anyway just to see the pure fighting prowess on display, to meet with friends and rivals and test themselves in the shadow of the WMAF's spectacle, or perhaps simply for their own reasons that coincide with this exhibition of the greatest fighters in the world.

Thus as the nomads and spectators alike arrive at Zamindawar International Airport, baking under a Zunist sun, the atmosphere is absolutely electric as dozens of excited fighters and onlookers await the following day's events. For the 20XX World Warriors Tournament in the heart of the Republic of Zun...


"...has been cancelled."

"WHAT?"

"The Annual Tournament has been cancelled," the attractive spokeswoman for the WMAF repeated to a very angry crowd of Nomads, who had just arrived to confirm their participation in the tournament. "We apologize for any inconvenience to our participants, but circumstances beyond our control have forced our hand."

This did little to soothe the irritation of the gathered nomads, already cranky from being in a crowded airport on one of the warmest days of the year. Spotting a few flashes of ki abilities from the more disgruntled members, she hastily repeated an apology and turned to make a retreat, only to come face to face with a microphone.

"May Armstrong, Investigative Nomad!" the scrawny brown-haired girl holding the microphone shouted in a thick Aussie accent. "Can I ask some questions about this sudden cancellation of the tournament?"

"No comment!" the spokeswoman said, attempting to brush her aside, but Armstrong stayed persistent.

"There hasn't been a cancellation since the Warsaw incident in 1999," the investigative nomad declared. "What's going on behind the scenes that you're not telling us? Is there another pee tape?"

"I said no comment! Now scram!" This time the spokeswoman was more forceful and shoved May completely aside before strutting off at a breakneck speed. Annoyed, May turned her attention to the Mythic crocodile man standing nearby, holding a video camera to his eye.

"That was rude of her," the croc-man said, focusing his camera on the spokeswoman's retreat. "Least she didn't insult us like the last WMAF guy did."

"Yeah Wally, she didn't," May pondered, retrieving a notepad from her pocket and jotting down some shorthand. "If the WMAF can't make the time to verbally assassinate someone, that usually means things are serious."

"You don't think it could have anything to do with those rumors about a coup, do you?" Wally Kite the crocodile man said nervously. "We're not that kind of investigators, and I don't think I could stomach a warzone." He gulped nervously.

"No worries Wally, nothing's stopped us so far and nothing will!" May announced triumphantly, doing little to dissuade the larger man's fears. "Now let's snoop around and see if we can get some comments from the other nomads around here. I'm sure there's going to be a lot of juicy scoops we can get from this lot!"

As the two reporters worked their way through an angry gathering of martial artists, some distance away a lone, unassuming figure walked hurriedly towards the gate to the next flight, a smaller figure keeping her head down and following closely behind...
Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by Genon
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Location: Fresh off the plane at the Zamindawar International Airport, Empire of Zun
Status: Pissed-off, thinking of how to salvage this trip

"Are you serious?!" Victor exclaimed in response to the news, as he stamped his foot in frustration. He had been practicing for weeks to get into the tournament! And paid the exorbitant upfront fee! And he wasn't like other Nomads! Having a drone fight for you in the field meant that you had to carry it with you! You had to transport it, get it past customs, and bring all the expensive repair equipment necessary in-between fights! He had to get the specially-designed armored truck he used as Trion's home base here by ship! HE HAD TO HIRE SECURITY TO MAKE SURE SOME SICKO DIDN'T STEAL IT TO MAKE WEAPONS!

AND AFTER ALL THAT, THEY COULDN'T EVEN BE BOTHERED TO TELL HIM THE TOURNAMENT WAS OFF UNTIL AFTER HE HAD ARRIVED IN ZUN!?

He clenched his fists as he raged for a moment, and then unclenched them as he took a deep breath and then began to smile a little bit. You know what? He was in a foreign country, at the airport, with plenty of spending money, Trion on standby, surrounded by Nomads he could just hang out with, and he was already prepared to stay here for a few days. Why not turn this into a little vacation?

He pulled out his phone and started looking up nearby points of interest. There had to be something worth checking out here other than the cancelled tournament. A museum, maybe? A nice restaurant? A nearby hotel he could relax in? Hell, he'd settle for a cheap Zunite movie theater if he needed to. At minimum, he wanted something to do before the next flight back to New York departed. Considering the rumors of a coup, he honestly wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea to stay longer than necessary, so the vacation idea was probably out, but at the very least he probably had some time to kill before heading home.

He checked the airport's flight schedules while he was at it. It was a good idea not to miss the return flight if he did decide to head home immediately. The representative's behavior was definitely odd, and the whole thing seemed fishy. As a fledgling Nomad, he could probably investigate, but he'd have to pick up the truck first and check to see if Trion One was in working order....

God, this Nomad stuff was so much more complicated than it seemed from the outside.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by DocRock
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The Professor


Centuries pass, and some things never change. That was something a lone male amid the crowds mused, dressed in a trenchcoat and fedora, that hid his appearance from view. Legend that he was, wanderer that he was, he had learned it was best to hide one's appearance as best able, to avoid standing out. With his coat collar turned up, and hat pulled low, it was doubtful anyone would pay him a second glance. It worked in his favor, allowing the dragon to move between the crowds, until close enough to hear the newest information. His lips had curled into a frown at the news of the cancellation. So the rumors he'd heard could be true. It would take nothing short of a war to cancel this event, which concerned him. His timing was perfect as usual. Red eyes flickered around the crowds, reading the mood...most were angry or disappointed. There were probably a few who were afraid or relieved. The Professor mulled, considering the information again.

"At least this gives me time to pick up something for my lair..." Truth be told, part of him was relieved that the tournament was cancelled. He didn't want to fight too much this time around, given the recent rumors. Keep his presence low, incase it became apparent that a hero was needed, and that it would require his aid. That said...there was that museum gift shop he'd passed on the way, yes, that would do. He turned around, making his way back through the crowd, passing right past the human Victor, eyes briefly flickering towards the rich man, before just as quickly flickering away. There was a King Tut's tomb DVD with the Professor's name on it, and a few astronaut food items. Perhaps he'd hit up the local library, read some of their texts. Perhaps even run into another inhuman like himself, that would make for some good story swaps. So of course, unless someone had the bright idea of challenging the trenchcoat clad Nomad, he'd not be stopped as he made his way elsewhere. Or if something happened. But now, time for the second player in the mix.

The Nameless Predator


Even robots need places to crash, and for the hunter who had made her way across the world in search of the bio-data the tournament would yield, that was a small cave she'd found while exploring the area around the upcoming tournament. Her systems let her listen in on chatter, and when news came over the radio of the cancellation...

"OH FOR FUCKS SAKE!" An audible thud echoed through her makeshift lair, as the android punched the floor in anger, pissed off at the news. Fuming, she hauled herself to her feet, slamming a foot against the ground now, hopping mad. She'd dodged border patrols and customs officials in dozens of places, all for her time to be wasted?! How in the Goddess's graces was she supposed to earn her adulthood?! The tournament was a perfect window! She kept up the minor tantrum, soon completely trashing her hideout...not that hard given it was literally just her and the cave. But after enough time thrashing around and probably making anyone near by think a monster or earthquake was around, she collapsed onto her back, coughing a tad. Now that the anger had dwindled, she seriously began to consider the situation. Sure, the tournament was cancelled...but there were still hundreds, if not thousands of skilled fighters here. Besides! There had to be a reason for that tournament to get shut down. Perhaps...the Goddess had intervened, and made this her name trial? The thought made Nameless haul herself back to her feet, the young android grinning in excitement at the thought. She punched the fist of one hand into her palm, her grin widening even more. Even if it wasn't a trial, this was a perfect window! Find out the cause, and beat the shit out of anyone who gets in your way! Brilliant!

Of course, her fellow Rockroids would probably be facepalming at her actions, but that's a Brawler for you. All about the next fight. And without further ado, she quickly left her lair, and began heading through the terrain, making a bee line for where the big announcement had just come in, like an actual juggernaut. Hopefully no one got run over by the rapidly moving metal warrior.

Meanwhile...

Orbit; Rock Imperium Rough Rider Transport


It was quiet, on the monitoring ship. So far, of the four Rockroids dropped onto the surface a year ago, only one, a Caster, had completed their trial, and that one was now hanging with the adults. For the ship's commander, a quiet, but stern Rider, green eyes gazed at data feeds, displaying global news, most of which was in response to the tournament cancellation. One screen marked the Brawler currently making their way along the surface. A Rock Soldier, clad in the standard black garments, stepped up, pale skin shining just a tad in the display lights, and silently exchanged a look with the Commander, before peeling away, walking back into the shadows. While they were the only Rough Riders around, that didn't prevent the possibility that other Imperium Factions were also in the area, but those ones at least were keeping a low profile. Otherwise, they barely gave any care to the cancelling, unless it impacted them or their mission, most events were ignored. That was how things went.

//Hope this is good!
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by wxps350
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Zun


Amongst the small sea of groans, shouts, and even overtly threatening displays of Ki, Ivory only had a look of annoyance and spite on her hawk-like face. She silently excused herself from the small rabble of disgruntled Nomads & fighting enthusiasts, slowly backing out from the group, which she already stood towards the back of. Once she made certain that she drew no attention to herself, she turned around and left. To even the faintest awareness that she was caught in, she'd probably just look like some diva who pouted off in disappointment. But once she was alone, she rounded the corner into the empty hallway. Making sure nobody around was listening, she pulled her watch close to her face, checking warily that she wasn't being listened into. Yet even then she only mumbled, cautious to every noise she made. Even airport security looked straight over her, assuming her some foreigner tinkering with a broken watch.

"This is Ivory. Change of plans, the Tournament is cancelled. It's already been announced? I see. It'd be foolish to assume it wouldn't already be a world-wide controversy by now." Ivory communicated with the watch, which only let back a series of high beeps and low boops, which Ivory memorized the chart to translate properly in her head.

"In either case, the plan we've worked so hard on is completely out the window, right? Perfect." Ivory sighed to herself, before the watch continued it's beeping. "New Plan? Alright, I'll await further instructions depending on how the situation unfolds. Until then I'll just try to blend in. Roger that."

The watch let out a third sound, a high pitched zip noise. Ivory couldn't help but smile to herself at that.

Just as unhumoring as she left, Ivory strolled back to the crowd silently. For all they knew she just went to use the lady's room. But by then, the WMAF representative ran off in terror at the crowd of the brawlers unrest, going as far as to shove over an innocent news lady--
May Armstrong, Ivory recognized.

So for all intents and purposes compared to the other Nomads, Ivory's actual reaction to the cancellation of the tournament was just her pouting with an annoyed expression.






Zun



Rod tried to maintain an ironclad expression to the same news that angered the rest of the crowd of Nomads and wannabe fighters, but any untrained eye could see the frustration and disappointment that boiled beneath his sunglasses. He tried lighting a cigar hoping it would make him look less 'scowly', but all the thirty second drag do was make him look really pissed, especially when he wheezed the smoke back out of his mouth through grit teeth.

Internally, though? Fuck all of this, he thought. He flew all the way out here with actual reason to, unlike the crowd of wannabes that he was forced to fly in with that hadn't actually been invited to the tournament, just to be told "Sorry. That big tournament you spent weeks getting ready for while making merchandise and promo-material isn't actually real. We just wanted to waste your time and money, and because time is money we're really just wasting more money and kicking you right in the nuts. Have fun in a country that You didn't even read about until this morning!~"

But, as he came to understand, not everything had to go to plan. There were still plenty of ways to make a quick buck and make yourself look good doing it. He'd give this place one day to make it worth his time. That's as much time any place needs to make a good impression.

Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Anza
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"Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

When the announcement was made, some of the Nomads present growled. Some pouted. Some walked away. And one, a pale girl in a blue jacket standing near the back of the gathered crowd, started laughing out loud. "Scram, she says!"

As if Nomads were ever the type to just pack up and go home.

Of course the cancellation was shocking. Disappointing, at first. However, as she turned the situation over in her mind, Anna Hathorn couldn't help but smile. She hadn't had much chance of competing, being knew to the scene, and had come partly to watch and partly to meet some of the other Nomads who would inevitably gather for the momentous event... But even if the tournament wasn't on, the Nomads were still here, right? And there was no way the WMAF would call off the event for no reason. The Federation probably stood to lose obscene amounts of money over this, not to mention the damage their reputation would take from this whole fiasco.

Tournament or no, something interesting was going on. And while Anna didn't have much of an idea what could have caused such a sudden such a sudden paradigm shift, she sure as hell knew she wanted to stick around and see what happened.

"I mean," she wondered aloud, "cancelling it, just like that? So much for a true test of skill and fighting spirit." She paused, yawning. "I guess this whole 'World Warriors' thing isn't such a big deal after all..."

Supposedly, Anna was just talking to herself. But the words were audible to those around her, and that volume was calculated. A verbal poke, meant to further rile up those angered by the sudden announcement.

Her sharp green eyes swept over the gathered warriors, curious to see if anyone would take the bait.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by A Lowly Wretch
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Meanwhile in the Zamindawar International Airport...


"The Annual Tournament has been cancelled."

Al had been standing among the many nomads who had recently arrived in the airport only to be hit with the bad news. Unlike the majority of the crowd who ranged from annoyed to furious Al simply looked as he always looked. His face wore a mostly disinterested frown, the sort of gloomy look most would associate with your standard JRPG protagonist. Outside of his silent spartan demeanor he pretty much blended into the background, well, outside of the fact that he was a white guy in in a middle eastern city.

His normalcy which normally kept him from standing out however made him stand out like a sore thumb in this particular crowd. Amidst a body of strange and fantastical fighters with unusual appearances and fashion senses a guy standing around in grey cargo pants and a white T-shirt did everything but help him blend in.

_
It didn't really matter though. He didn't care what anyone thought of him or why he was here. In fact he wasn't even here for the tournament. A shmoe like him was not going to get formally invited anytime soon, he certainly couldn't afford the entry fee and nobody was going to foot the bill for a guy like him. His attitude was virtually unmarketable. No company was going to touch him, not even with a ten foot pole.

His eyes lazily scanned through the crowd as he looked across the sea of faces. A couple stood out to him, not because of who they were but rather what they were. The young brown haired woman was carrying a microphone, interrogating several different folks about what was going on. She was very likely a reporter.

Eh. It's a start.

He casually made his way through the crowd up to the young lady.

"Hey." He gave a short hand wave to her to try and get her attention.

"You a reporter? If so I gotta ask you somethin'. I'm looking for a group calling themselves the Hellion Gang. You know anything about 'em?"

He stood there, hands in his pockets as he waited for a response.
Hidden 5 mos ago 5 mos ago Post by Genon
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...Huh. According to his good friend Google Maps, there was a museum not too far from here. Well, that was as good a place as any to head to first.

@DocRock
While he was standing there, the sight of a man in a trenchcoat and fedora pulled him away from his phone, and for a brief instant, he locked eyes with the man in the weird outfit, before the guy walked away.

Thinking nothing of it, he started to head out of the airport, towards the museum. But before he could leave...

@Anza
"I mean," she wondered aloud, "cancelling it, just like that? So much for a true test of skill and fighting spirit." She paused, yawning. "I guess this whole 'World Warriors' thing isn't such a big deal after all..."

Seriously? Yeah, the preparations with Trion had been a huge pain in the ass, the tournament staff could have definitely handled the announcement better, and he was sure wasn't the only one miffed about wasting several months training for a tournament that never happened...but if a coup really did take place overnight, he could understand why everything panned out this way.

But no. He wasn't going to play Devil's advocate. Nomads were infamous for being ready to throw down at a moment's notice, and with Trion still with security, he was defenseless until he could pick it up. If she challenged him, and he couldn't defend himself, either he tried to take her on and got put in traction, or he backed out and his reputation was ruined. Neither outcome was fun. And that was assuming that she didn't just bum-rush him in response. Or outright kill him on accident with a basic fireball.

So he did the smart thing and kept walking.

As started heading into the airport proper to go grab his bags, he caught sight of the guy again. The way he was going happened to coincide with Trenchcoat Guy's path, so he figured he'd make some small talk while he walked. "Hey," he said as he walked alongside the Mythic (not that he knew that at the time). "Saw you pass by earlier. Sucks that the tournament got called off, huh? You think the rumors about a coup are true?" He noticeably shouldered his backpack as he said that. It was clear there was something a bit bulky in there.

And without further ado, she quickly left her lair, and began heading through the terrain, making a bee line for where the big announcement had just come in, like an actual juggernaut. Hopefully no one got run over by the rapidly moving metal warrior.

Hearing a loud stomping sound, he craned his head and noticed...that. "Uh..." he started, not really expecting that. He turned back to Trenchcoat Guy, asking, "On second thought, do you think we should do something about that random woman charging into the crowd?"
Hidden 5 mos ago 4 mos ago Post by Drag
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The warm desert breeze brushes against Voyt's cheek as he wordlessly stares through a pair of binoculars. Motionlessly he sits fixated on one position, hat laid down at his side allowing his hair to hang down in a mess, his mask as ever remains securely on his face. Behind him stands the MIRAGE Agent Violet, looking thoroughly bored offsetting Voyt's static and ever professional demeanour.

"... Don't tell me, Voyty." Violet moaned, ever so annoyed at the predicament. "... They cancelled it? But I wanted to kill something! Kill something real good!"

Voyt placed down the binoculars, still staring at the coliseum entrance littered with angry and disgruntled nomads.

"Strange..." He mused to himself before turning ever so slightly to Violet. "Unless you want the attention of several other, more law-abiding, groups for killing one potential whistle-blower. I'd keep a lid on it."

Placing the binoculars in a hidden pouch underneath his poncho, Voyt got to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, though his expression remains unchanged a clear air of frustration surrounds him.

"Admittedly, things would be easier were the tournament still going ahead." He muttered.

"The Pariah said kill him," Violet said with a smile as the breeze danced against her skin and tingled for a moment. All she could do was smile as she placed one of the claws into her mouth. "So, that's what we're going to do. Though, it miiiiiight be easier if we didn't have the mythic police breathing down our necks..."

"The last few jobs weren't exactly good for keeping a low profile" Voyt said, bending down to pick up and put on his hat "After this I'm done working with MIRAGE for a while."

Suddenly Violet pounced Voyt, landing on his back and her claws ending up startling close to his neck. "C'mon, Voyty, didn't you enjoy all the good times we had! Like killing people. Remember that time we killed that bastard on a cruise ship? I hung him off the side of the boat by his spine!"

For his part Voyt remained unfazed at the claw of Violet pressing perilously close to his neck, staring up at her with his ever present dull gaze, eyes unblinking.

"Job's a job." He replied matter of factly. "No point getting....."

His brow furrowed as he deftly shoved Violet off him.

"He's on the move." Voyt said quickly.

"Oh! Where's he goin?!" Violet asked. "I'll yank him up onto the roof real quick!"

"Hard to tell, can't keep focused on him for long with all these people. We'll have to follow him, find a quiet spot."

With that Voyt took a running start and leapt off the side of the roof, tumbling onto the roof of the adjacent building and keeping his momentum as he sprinted forward. Violet followed in a more flashy manner, she telescopically extended her arm and yanked herself to the next rooftop and then rolled as she began running with her arms loosely flailing behind her.

The Nomad in question appeared unaware of his hunters, grumbling obscenities to himself as he pushed his way through the crowd of Nomads. He fitted almost the stereotypical portrayal of a nomad, shaved head, bushy beard, dark coloured gi and ripped to the gills with muscles. He evidently did not lack in confidence either as he blatantly pushed Nomad and non-Nomad alike to exit the mass of humanity, eventually coming to the entrance of one of the cluttered streets. His former confidence shifted ever so slightly as he glanced quickly in each possible direction and began walking much quicker with his head held down.

Look at him. Violet thought to herself as she watched him.He's scared shitless, but he's about to blow the whistle on MIRAGE. What an idiot.

Violet and Voyt followed closely as the Nomad faintly but noticeably behaved more and more erratic, feigning taking one direction but going in another, hovering around smaller crowds of people before continuing to journey forward. But no matter what he attempted The MIRAGE Agent and The Gunslinger continued to fluidly move from rooftop to rooftop with frightening speed and grace, despite their differing attitudes the duo had enough experience to work cohesively as a team.

The Nomad turned a corner and was all but jogging as he stopped dead in his tracks, looking at the thick brick wall in front of him. Alarm flashed across his face as he looked towards his left and right, unable to attempt smashing through the wall without drawing the attention of every passerby in the vicinity. Hastily and with little thought for his movement the Nomad all but threw himself into the decaying building to his left, the darkness of the ruins swallowing him up from view. Which turned out to be not as great of a decision as he thought with the only barest minimum of light coming into the building. He could see a huge silhouette running past him back and fourth, laughing manically for a second before disappearing. He considered turning back but...

two metallic claws burst out of the ground and wrapped themselves around his body, binding him.

"Surprise!" Violet shouted before pink electrically was sent directly into his body and he convulsed as the room was illuminated with a hot-pink light.

The Nomad lay limp, trapped between the metallic claws of Violet, his body twitching slightly as his head drooped downwards. He let it out a low anguished groan as he struggled to formulate any coherent words.

"Please..." He muttered barely above a whisper.

"Please continue? Okay!" Violet said, before charging him with even more electricity. "Maybe in the next life, you'll learn to keep your trap shut!"

The man let out a bloodcurdling scream as the currents further fried his body, twitching violently in every direction as his cries slowly turned into incoherent noises emanating from his throat. His torture was ended suddenly and swiftly as a bullet pierced his forehead dead centre.

"Job done."

Voyt said, holstering his gun, noticeably making a small effort to not look at the former Nomad directly. Violet on the other hand, after she retracted her arms, skipped over to the dead body and knelt down. She raised an eyebrow as she poked the corpse a few times.

"... I think he's a little well-done."

Voyt ignored her as he walked over to the window and peered outside, despite the noise and sight of Violet's oh so subtle lightning it appeared the commotion of the tournament's cancellation had continued and spilt out onto the streets, giving ample enough cover. Voyt looked back at the dead nomad for a moment before turning his gaze on to Violet.

"That's the last loose end tied." He said folding his arms. "Don't care if you have to tell Abel or Pariah but I expect payment within the next week at our usual spot or else our business arrangement is done."

"Of course, Voyt..." Violet said as she put her claws in her mouth. "We would never do you like that, maybe I'll get the Pariah to throw in a bonus for being such a good sport, love."

Voyt nodded. He walked over to the now very dead Nomad and crouched down, giving him a once over to ensure there wouldn't be anything traceable. Though given that Violet had fried to near unrecognisable status they were most certainly safe but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Heading back to MIRAGE?" He asked, continuing to examine the Nomad without leaving any trace of his involvement.

"Nope... there's some business I have in Zun... especially with all the Nomads ripe for MIRAGE just wandering around!"

"I'm sure they'll all be eager to lend a hand."

"Yes... after some convincing. but I should get moving... time is money, after all!" Violet said as she stuck out her tongue... before she suddenly ran out the door and her claw violently extended and attached itself to a nearby building and she swung off.

Voyt turned to watch the incredibly obvious manner in which Violet had decided to depart, under his mask a small frown spread on his lips.

"Hrn."

He tipped his hat downwards and walked into the shadows of the building, disappearing from view.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by DocRock
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The Professor


At first, he hadn't even noticed Victor following after, but when addressed, the Professor had come to a stop, his gaze quickly sliding towards the male. He thought about the coup statement, before the softest sigh left him. Now he had a stronger feeling why he'd looked at Victor. Something about him was familiar beyond the whole famous bit. Something in his bloodline. He couldn't put his finger on it, however. "More than likely. It takes a war or worse to cancel a tournament this big. Judging by the commotion, people are going to make the most of it. For better or worse." He wouldn't admit it readily, but the thought of exploring the tournament grounds, or breaking into a secure area in search of answers, had occurred to him. As for the commotion being caused by the...decidedly not human being approaching the others, he shook his head. "We should avoid that. Or I should at least, I'd rather not draw attention. Probably an old flame or two are around, or their descendants. Latter would be easier to talk to, former, not so much. Granted, most of the women he'd been with over the years were dead, but the immortals...well, that was a concern for later. He hadn't even seriously considered the possibility that Victor might take his words about past romances in a way that...wouldn't be so normal. Still, he was a tad worried about the metal warrior...

Nameless


By the time she'd reached the site of everything, the android had run out of anger steam. She just stood there, staring at the crowd, at the fleeing speaker, at the kid talking to her, at the other making a scene, at all the others. She looked for the moment, uncertain. Eyes cast around, looking for something to do. Running out into the open like this had its risks, now that she stopped to think about it. But then again...she was sure that no one here would go right after her. She froze in place though, seeing the crowd start to get riled, the thought of beating up people growing stronger in her mind. She wasn't sure what to do though.

And somewhere, multiple Rockroids facepalmed at this situation. Or laughed in dry amusement. This was a quality show.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by wxps350
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Zun



Ivory stood in the crowd even as it began to disperse, trying her best to just blend in and avoid attention. That was until she heard another woman yawn, "cancelling it, just like that? So much for a true test of skill and fighting spirit. I guess this whole 'World Warriors' thing isn't such a big deal after all...", to nobody in particular.

Now in most cases, Ivory would've just brushed that off with the other complaints and faint discussions the other gathered Nomads engaged in. But what caught here interest was the woman's arms. Or rather, lack of arms? Rather than regular human arms, they were made of metal. Cybernetic. Giving them a quick scan, Ivory deduced that they certainly weren't of any make she ever saw before or had been registered by Horizon Frontiers Database. This made her a very clear anomaly. Though Ivory had just agreed seconds ago to lay low while HQ worked out what to do, that only applied to the list of candidates she was supposed to hunt down before the tournament went south. This woman, on the other hand, was unexpected, and at least deserved observation.

Besides, nothing wrong with working a little overtime, right?

Ivory crept her way to the cyber-armed girl, taking a few brief steps to reach her.

"Honestly the tournament is a bit of a sham. Most of the Nomads gathered here are either rich or famous enough to warrant an invitation. Actual strength or competence of Nomads comes third." She explained, looking at Anna with her ambergreen eyes, "Chances are anyone who actually looks like a decent fighter here is either putting on a show or just came to watch."

Ivory's shilling personally didn't actually reflect her beliefs, the World Warrior Tournament was a prime event for observations and picking new targets to hunt down. Unlike most other fields, if a Nomad was rich or famous enough it could be due to them being a strong fighter to begin with. However she did her best to get close to the cyber-armed woman, just pave the way until she could work the conversation towards her robotic arms.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Ruler Inc
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Zun - Airport.


"Oi! You call this ramen?!"

Yoko loudly shouted from on top of her perch on top of the wooden, red, cart with Japanese kanji engraved on it and "HOT FRESH NOODLES". Yoko was sitting with her legs folded and a hot bowl of ramen in her hands as she tried to scoop some into her mouth. She had a very dissatisfied look on her face as she looked down at the Japanese man, almost as if he had insulted her entire bloodline. "Are you even Japanese? This tastes like an American made it!" Yoko said as she slammed the bowl down on top of the cart.

"Miss, if you don't like it, well..." The Ramen-man said, "... Tough luck. No refunds."

"No refunds?!" Yoko shouted as she hopped down, grabbing her stick in mid-air. "You expect people to eat a hot cup of piss and enjoy it?"

"... Yes."

"Do you know who I am?" Yoko said as she valiantly slammed one end of her staff on the ground and faced the man with a less than pleased look on her face. "Hatanaka Yoko! And I refuse to accept anything less than the best!" She proudly said before she put the stick in his face.

"I want my money back!" Yoko shouted.

"No-"

Since the first words out of his mouth were not "Yes, ma'am", Yoko whacked him over the head with her stick. She held back a bit so she didn't, y'know, kill the guy, but a comical red bump formed on his head as he was knocked on his ass. She rested one end of her staff on the ground as she stood over top of him.

"Next time, it's going straight up your ass!" Yoko shouted before she jabbed it in his face. "Give me my money!"

"Okay, okay, I'll do it! Just don't hit me with that stick again!" He quickly scrambled back to his cart and handed her back her money. Yoko huffed as she turned her head and marched off towards the stadium, well she wanted to bulk up on some food before the tournament but looks like she just doesn't have the time. She just got off the plane and...

It's been canceled.

Yoko just had to smile at the news. She came here all the way from Japan for this damn tournament and it's been canceled. "... GOD DAMN IT!" Yoko shouted as she slammed one end of her staff onto the ground. "Oi, I drag my ass all the way here, and then they cancel it!" Even though her primary goal wasn't to fight in the tournament, she was also here to interrogate Nomads about the sword. She tracked it here from Japan, and God damn she wasn't going to leave until she got what she came for.

She shook her head as she wondered where to even start. The room was full of Nomads, after all, one of them had to know something.



Zun - Docks.


"Hey, ma'am, what are you doing?!"

A mere cargo ship with crate after crate was shaken when a massive motorcycle with a demon design came crashing through the sides of the ship. On top of it was the Oni Princess herself, holding on tightly to both handle-bars with sake at one hip and her club at the other. "Thanks for the ride boys!" Aiko shouted in mid-air as she looked back. "But I am exactly where I needed to be." The second the words left her lips, all that could be heard was the hellish sound of her motorcycle as she zipped away. Eventually making it to the streets of the nation.

... So this is Zun? Aiko heard a lot about it and apparently Daichi, her father, visited the place a few times. A nation for mythics would be perfect for the Oni clan, but her stubborn father is still holding onto a dead dream than moving onto somewhere they can actually prosper. But, she also heard that quite a lot of mythics hold a very poor opinion of the Oni Clan, and why move when you have your own land? Either way, Aiko liked the place, she could see herself spending some time here.

But, Aiko was here for a reason; the sword. Aiko tracked the sword to this place, and she would definitely find it. Regardless of how many people she's gotta kill, human, mythic, in between, or beyond. She hit the gas pedal a bit, as she tried to speed towards the stadium. There was a huge tournament and if the sword was here, she would find the lead on it there.

And maybe she can beat up some humans to show the superiority of the Oni clan.



Zun - A Bar.


"Told ya'," Shayton said as he casually took sips out of his glass of orange juice over ice. There was a gang of various humans and mythics surrounding him, all wearing leather and biker gear. Holding baseball bats and other clubs as they growled at Shayton... who merely sat at the bar with his back to them. After he was done taking his sip, he said, "I killed you five minutes ago."

"What?! Then why am I still standing?" The big brutish man said.

"... Because you didn't look down."

The man looked down... and realized there was a gaping hole in his chest. He coughed up blood as he keeled over. "Get him!" One of the men shouted as he swung his bat at Shayton, but the man's reflexes were on a whole 'nother level. Shayton disappeared into thin air and the next thing he knew, he was punched square in the face, knocked out in one blow. Shayton disappeared again, accompanied by wind, as he parried a baseball bat out of someone's hand and elbowed them in the face. He hit the ground and the gang looked directly at him.

"Who the hell is this guy?!" A mook asked as Shayton dropped into the stance. Body sideways, legs shoulder width apart, and both hands like claws, one hand forward and the other hand back towards his face.

"Shayton. The assassin." He answered his question.

"Kill him!" They all shouted as they rushed Shayton, one swung a crowbar at him but Shayton dashed and shoved one of his partners in the way and he got a face full of metal and was knocked out. Shayton dashed towards another man and punched him in the jaw and quickly zipped around him faster than sight and sent him flying across the room into the table with a kick. One of the goons managed to get a punch of him though and he was sent stumbling backward... before Shayton disappeared and punched him square in the face. Someone tried to hit him over the head with a sledgehammer and Shayton grabbed the hammer and hit the man square the balls with the handle and he keeled over in pain as he grabbed his nuts.

He fell down, Shayton used him as a stepping stool as he grabbed another mook by the face and dashed; slamming him head first into the wall before he dashed back across the room. The second to last mook was dispatched with a palm thrust that sent him out the window... and that left him the last man. Who was staring at Shayton, terrified as the man - no, the assassin - stood with his hands in his pockets. Shayton looked up at the man before he shrugged.

"Fight's over, kid. Go home." And the man complied by running out. Shayton sat back down at the bar and took a long sip of his orange juice... not showing a hint of emotion over the huge group of people lying around dead or unconscious or dying. The bartender was shivering as she watched the whole display... Shayton shook his head before he got up and fished through the pockets of the first man he killed. He pulled out a wad of money and... placed it in the bartender's tip jar.

"Here's for the mess, so... mind giving me another glass," Shayton said and the bartender nervously shook her head and grabbed it for him.

"... Yeeeeah, it's on the house." She said, and Shayton nodded his head as he went to drink it.



Zun - Airport.


A tall figure stood against the wall wearing a brown trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat that hid their face when they tilted their head ever so slightly. When they raised their head, they revealed they were completely robotic, and a red light flashed for a moment before he lowered his head.

Oh-One scanned everyone in the room for potential threats before he moved on. The tournament being canceled was very... unfortunate. As the only reason why he came to this nation was that he was searching for one of the Hundreds, who came to participate in the tournament. Oh-One was going to kill them any way he knew how, and then extract their data. However, with no tournament, it would be quite difficult to track them to one specific location. Oh-One adapts, however, and they will achieve all they came here for.

And perhaps they'd achieve human emotion.

For now, the machine merely waited. Watching the Nomads from a distance... they didn't consort with humans anyhow.



Zun - Alleyway.


In a dark alleyway, men pinned a woman to the wall with a knife to her throat. She loudly cried as they took her purse, but still held her against the wall. What more could she give them!?

"Time for some fun!"

"... Oh, you boys are looking for fun?" A feminine voice came from the shadows as a metallic dragging sound could be heard. Coming into sight was the massive frame of Marcia Santos, or how she went these days; Violet. She dragged her arms alongside the ground as she walked into sight with a grin on her face. "Well, you're definitely not going to find it from her... she has no curves." She pushed her breasts together as she said it.

"Hey, lady, stay out of this." The man said as he drew a gun at her. "Before we hurt you."

"Oh, well..." Violet shrugged as she dropped her arms to the ground. "... Well, I'll have fun with you, then!" She shouted maniacally as she extended her arm and grabbed the man by his top and her massive metal hands engulfed his upper body. She held him up in the air as he wildly thrashed and fired bullets into completely random directions as Violet charged him with electricity. He screamed as Violet dropped him to the ground, totally dead.

"Fried 'im like chicken!" Violet shouted. "Who's next!? I have enough electricity for all of you!"

The survivors looked at each other and realized this wasn't worth it and quickly left, and Violet walked over to the woman and looked down at her. "Thank... you..." The woman said.

"Don't mention it, love!" Violet said, "I fight for the little man!" Violet paused for a moment. "... Woman, I mean, but I must be off." Violet's hand telescopically extended and she was flung to a different location.

She ended up on a rooftop... after splitting off from Voyt, Violet decided to stick around in Zun for a little while. There were plenty of Nomads in Zun just waiting to be recruited to MIRAGE! And Violet was their best recruiter!

Well, when you had a bod like hers, it was easy to get people to do what you want.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Clover Sandleford

Zun - Airport.


These people were crazy if they thought they could just cancel the biggest tournament in the world and get off scot free.

As Clover Sandleford watched the crowd of disappointed, disaffected, fundamentally disorderly Nomads express their dissatisfaction and begin to disperse into dreamy sun-lit Zun she couldn't help but feel like the WMAF was playing with matches a little to close to a stack of dynamite here. You couldn't just bring these type of people here, get them all riled up with promise of battle and glory, and then not give they an outlet for that. It was like promising ten cent beer for a day and then not stocking enough to meet demand. These were nomads, after all. They'd make their own fun. Idle fists, Hazel had always said, were the devils playthings.

She pushed herself off the wall she'd been leaning against to listen and started weaving her way through the airport crowd toward the door before some poor fool got ancy and decided to light that fuse right here. She wasn't that put off by the cancelation, at least for the reason every other nomad here probably was. It wasn't as though she had been here to fight in the tournament. She wasn't famous or rich enough for that sort of thing. No, what had drawn here to Zun was the food. Events like this drew crowds. Crowds meant food stalls, trucks, mobile bars, coming from all over to service hungry tourists. Local restaurants would be cooking special, signature dishes to show off and bars would be bringing out the best (and most expensive) reserves to try and get their name on the map as the premier place to dine and drink in all the country of Zun. A veritable smorgasbord of flavors, local and exotic.

Clover didn't know whether the two-bit no account deadbeat locust she was looking to squish even bothered to tastes what he put in his mouth, but this definitely seemed like the sort of place he'd hit. The legendary Dine & Dasher, Tornado Rhodes. Number 9 on NomadicNation most wanted list she'd found out, the humanoid famine that descended like a storm and left you with nothing. There was no way he could pass this up.

The tournament being canceled meant all those restaurateurs would be pulling out early, but on such short notice there were still hungry mouths stuck in this city with no event to see who'd want to make the most of this trip. The carts and trucks would hang around for a couple of days at least, trying to recoup some of the loss they were expecting. He'd strike in that window if he was here, and she'd be ready for it!

On her way out she stopped and grabbed a pile of pamphlets from the kiosk beside the help desk, each one advertising of famous restaurant or bar that promised famous Zun cuisine, and stuffed most all of behind her back. With a touch of her hand and a little application of that special magic old Hazel had taught here the hole on the back of her waistcoat flared to life under her hair. She slipped the pamphlets inside, letting them fall into darkness of the abyss to read later, before running her finger round the edge and closing it up neat and tidy, like it wasn't even there. A perk of her power was that it'd let her smuggle her entire stock of booze onto the plane with her, so if she needed a little quick petty cash she could always set up the stand in the shadier parts of town and sell, sell, sell.

She'd kept one though, and read it while she walked. Apparently this placed was putting on a special sword dance to go with their steak or whatever they served here. Big, tanned, muscular guys swinging round scimitars while wearing vests that were three sizes to small for anything. Didn't seem like the sort of place Rhodes would take an interest in, but she might hit that up is she could find the time. She was so engrossed in her reading she didn't even notice the thunderous stomps of an approaching warrior. In fact, she didn't notice the warrior at all until her had walked head first into her and bounced off with a metallic clang.

She looked up to see Nameless, this blond bombshell with the most undecided look on her face Clover had ever seen. Clover felt sorry for her. Obviously the announcement hadn't wholly set in yet for this young warrior, and she was so crushed she couldn't even get out of the way. "Sorry about that. My fault." Clover said, reaching over and dusting off the girls brown jacket before patting her twice on the shoulder. "Tournaments canceled kid. Keep standing here and the next guy who knocks into ya' might take out his frustrations. Here." She slid the pamphlet into the girls hand. "Take in a show." She then walked around and out the door into the city itself.

It didn't take her long to spot the noodle cart out front and the poor owner rubbing the big red welt on his head. Clover shook her head. Unbelievable. People were already starting to get worked up. Wait long enough and war would probably break out.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Anza
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Zun - Zamindawar International Airport

Given her present company, Anna would have expected the first response to her provocations to come from some jacked-up dude with anger issues and more Ki than he knew what to do with. Instead, though, her answer came from a demure-looking girl in black and red. She seemed more like the kind of person one would encounter in a fancy teahouse than a far-flung airport filled with eager warriors. But Nomads came in all shapes and sizes, didn't they?

"That's society for you," Anna answered with a sigh, "always about money, in the end. People think Nomads are something special, something honorable, but when you get up close, they're the same as anyone else... just a lot more destructive." She watched the crowd as she mused, picking out a few faces she recognized. Some of the people here were famous, at least enough to get their pictures taken for online articles and rankings. The real bigwigs would probably be traveling privately, but there were still some nice photo opportunities hanging around, selfies just waiting to be taken...

Instead, though, she suddenly turned, meeting the eyes of the other girl. "But then, you can't always judge by appearances. After all, you don't look like much of a fighter." She raised an eyebrow. "But you must be, because otherwise you wouldn't be standing so close to the girl who just mouthed off at a crowd of Nomads." Her head tilted to one side, her posture relaxed. Not suspicious, it seemed, but curious. "So tell me— are you one of the rich ones, or the strong ones?"

@wxps350
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Zun - Zamidawar International Airport



Ivory? Rich? Please. If only Horizon actually paid her.

"Honestly this dress is probably the most expensive thing I own. I'm not much of a rainmaker. I actually came here with Special Permission."

Ivory flashed the girl her pass, which had her picture, her name Ivory Navella, and occupation, listed as "researcher".

"I'm here from Horizon Frontiers. Originally I was sent to collect data by watching the fight. Or at least I was supposed to. Now that the tournament's cancelled I'm stranded here until my boss can figure out how to make the trip worth it." Ivory explained in a hush. While that seemed like controversial information to flat out expose, there were actually several barriers to it. First off, Horizon Frontiers was no unusual group to be at a fighting tournament. Their (at least surface) goal to observe biology and cybernetics made displays of human skill a must, and often Nomadic abilities required first-hand view to study indently. The same went for cybernetically powered Nomads, which were often a common appearance, especially at the World Warriors Tournament.
Plus, by technicality Ivory was an employee at Horizon Frontiers' surface. Though her usual job included detaining and kidnapping Nomads for experimentation and production of Symbiotes, any official records would just read "intern".

"Honestly most of the actual World Warriors Tournament being a blowout was a yearly disappointment. Now it's not happening at all."





Zun Docks




"Thank you!" Calvin thanked the corn dog stand guy. It might've been the last of his 5 bucks, but it was a worthy sacrifice. Plus it was crumb to the fortune he spent getting here, to Zun, the capital in Nomad Culture.

It might've been a real stretch to get here with only 200 dollars; taking a ramshackle plane, riding a leaky ship, even stowing away on a train. All without any food! Well, good food anyway. But it was the perfect place to perfect his grandfather's style, and the perfect time. With the coming of the World Warrior Tournament this Nomad Haven would become a Nomad Hive. Even outside of the tournament there'd be Nomad enthusiasts coming to celebrate, probably looking to fight other people coming to fight. Probably like seeing kids at Fifa playing soccer with each other. Same energy.

Anticipating that, Calvin made every expense to travel straight to the country of Zun by the time the World Warrior Tournament rolled around. It took the little money he had, and a fair bit of danger, but now he was here and goddamn it the Tournament was cancelled?!

Calvin saw it on a display television. All of them. Even ones on different channels. All over the news, local or international, the World Warriors Tournament was cancelled, and Calvin just wasted all his money for nothing. Well... At least he had a corn dog, still.

Or at least he did. As he sulked off into the streets, he just narrowly noticed a speeding bike heading straight towards him. It had a demonic design to it, and showed no sign of veering out of the way or slowing down. The Canadian Walrus-Puncher only had several seconds to mentally yank himself back onto the sidewalk, causing him to bump into a pole and drop his corn dog. He looked on more in horror to his fatal mistake than he did at nearly being run over by a psycho on a bike. For a moment or so.

Calvin turned back to the biker, calling "Hey! Watch where you're going you psycho!" while shaking his gloved fist.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Kamen Evie
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Zun - Airport.


“What did he say again?” A young girl asked, scrolling lazily on her phone as she held her coffee in her other hand. She took a sip and hissed. Still too hot...

“The big tournament’s been cancelled, kid.” her bat answered, fluttering about to and fro as he scanned the crowd.

“Oh, ok.” The girl answered. She shoved her phone into her pocket before anyone could yell at her.

“Can you at least pretend to be invested in this?” The bat shot back.

“Not really?” Jasmine answered with a shrug. “More concerned with how Jill’s gonna deal with it, to be honest.” she turned to her sister, who was currently barking back and forth with someone over the phone. Probably her agent? Jasmine never bothered to learn how all that stuff worked. Jill hung up and straightened her hat with a huff.

“I can’t believe it,” Jill said, with a demeanor that suggested steam might come pouring out of her ears at any moment. “This was supposed to be my big venue! They think that just because they have money they can do whatever the heck they want, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jasmine answered with a shrug. “That’s kind of how it works, sis.” She took another sip. Jill grumbled and sighed.

“It won’t be the end of the world for you…” Another voice answered. Isabella (or as Jill calls him, Grunkle Izzy) didn’t talk too much. But he seemed to know things. Enough to get Jill to calm down a bit.

“In fact,” Isabella said. “Things are getting chaotic… you might get the chance to show off after all.” the metric fuckton of hair he had was getting really bristly. It was one of those things that he did that creeped Jasmine out. The older man’s eyes turned to the front of the crowd.

“Press is here,” he said. “I’m going to clear out for a while. Keep your belt handy, Jill...” he promptly disappeared into the crowd.

“I…” Jill admitted. “I left it with Pit Stop.” Jasmine sighed.

“It’s fine, sis.” She promptly guzzled the rest of her coffee. “I can help out if you need me to.” Beelzebub promptly turned his gaze back to the cup. He pretended he wasn’t too interested in it, but his eyes kept darting back to it from time to time.

“Are you gonna finish that?” The bat asked. Jasmine shrugged, and tossed the garbage into his waiting maw. He gave a loud, hearty laugh.




Zun - Airport.


Isabella sighed as he took another long drag of the cigarette and exhaled towards the open sky. He missed being able to smoke inside…

His phone started going off in his pocket. A SHINING number. He groaned. Probably Ryu or some asshole from HQ.

“Yeah?” The Rider asked.

“It seems the tournament has been cancelled,” A warm voice echoed. “Truly, a shame.”

“Yeah,” Isabella answered. “I didn’t really feel like throwing a fight for our rising superstar, anyhow...” He heard a laugh in response.

“Your pride is admirable, Isabella…” The voice admitted. “But there is a more concerning matter to discuss. We have something of a problem on our hands… Some rather… shall we say shady characters in the area have gotten their hands on some of SHINING’s specialized gear. Get it back for us. Quietly.”

“Some poor fucks got their hands on a belt, huh?” Isabella said skeptically. “Wonder how that happened. I’ll take care of it.” He hung up after they gave him the location.

The half-demon fumbled through his jacket for his keys as he walked towards his motorcycle. Another day he’d need to spend the night forgetting…
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Zun - Airport
Otsana (@redbaron1234), Clover (@Gentlemanvaultboy)

"Christ, what's taken y'so long Otsy," murmured Jonas, reclining back in his seat, alternating between sipping between a cheap cup of coffee with the words McDonalds clearly plastered on the side, all while reading some laminated documents. He could only sift through them so many times as he raised an inquisitive eyebrow before tactfully storing the pages away before taking another sip and sputtered a couple of curses to himself before hunching over, rapping and tapping against the lips of the plastic cup.

It didn't really seem like he was fazed whatsoever, keeping a sense of cool and calm, even as the cacophony of yells, screams, and jeers emanating from the crowd of pissed off nomads continued set the ambience for this part of the airport. He let his eyes drift elsewhere... preferably to the skinless and much more bony compadre sitting across from him, scribbling furiously into a notebook.

Clicking the roof of his mouth, he leaned to the side, nudging the arm of the skeleton before snapping into a finger gun and pointing directly at the gaggle of Nomads. "Say, it's a damn shame that the tournament was canceled, aye?" He gave the skeleton an easygoing, almost lazy smile, waiting for an answer...

... that never really came. It was less impatience and more that he expected some form of answer, but that smile did eventually began to dwindle before he exasperatedly shook his head. This man was way to invested in his work, that's what he could pick up for the past minute studying him... especially his ki...

... which was located under the seat with numerous other notebooks. "So much for that," he murmured, leaning back towards his seat and out of the Mystic's personal space as he swirled his coffee cup. He leaned back, taking one quick glance towards the cargo terminal before taking one swift swig.

"... hm, might as well get a head start on what I really came here for," he thought to himself, finishing off the rest of the coffee before whipping his head around in search for the nearest trashcan.

Upon spotting it, he ascended and quickly tossed it into the bin, but all while squinting at the crowd, sizing everyone up and down. Honestly, it was a bit inconvenient that everyone was clustered together as he not only sized them up physically, but got a good whiff of their ki levels.

Jonas, upon completing this mundane task went onto another, returning to his former seat, all while repeating what could be mistaken for people watching.

Of course, during this time, he began to head back to his seat, only to stop midway there to identify the Nomad who was trying to cause a ruckus, trying to figure out what she was up to, taking an obscene amount of time trying to dissect what her intentions were before rolling his eyes and just heading back to his seat.

"Just... really? You're trying to provoke people into starting a fight with a coup on the horizon." Those were his only thoughts as he plopped back down into the comfy airport chair.

Honestly, the only people of interest at this point was the roughneck rabblerouser, guy in a trench coat #1 with an abundance of ki chatting with a young fella' who only seemed to be on the radar for Jonas due to his unequally low amount of ki, a cross between a bunny girl and bartender who took a bunch of pamphlets, some random jackass who looked like a cross between a knight and a cybernetic enforcer who got lost on their way to a Shadowrun convention, a woman with similar Machiavellian gaze as him, and guy(?) in a trench coat #2 with no ki... yeah, he wasn't gonna bother with that one, especially with a prior encounter with a person known as... Jeremy.

A chill shot down his spine; yeah, that was a unique encounter alright. "I'm never trusting any Jeremy's I come across again," he uttered to no one in particular before let out a small chuckle as he continued to lounge around in his chair, whipping out his cell phone and began punching away at the keypads.

Otsana
|Alright then, leave no
witnesses then!|
Jonas
|NO! Otsy, just because this
is a stealth mission doesn't
mean leave no witnesses.|

|Otsy?|


Jonas
|Welp, tourney is canceled,
so much for our time off.|

|I'm gonna grab some
pamphlets; we might as well
make the most of this before
a coup eventually starts.|

|Also, gonna grab some food,
I'm kinda hungry; will be outside,
want anything in particular?|


Exhaling, the doctor rose up, pocketing the phone before heading over to the help kiosks and swiped a couple of pamphlets, stuffing them away into his bag. His stomach growled a bit as he trudged on by nomads, mystics, and other alike, not bothering to give them the time of day.

It wasn't even a minute before he was outside, taking in the atmosphere of the area, watching different people engage with each other, ranging from a centaur purchasing some food from a djinn to a human chatting with a trio of pixies. The airport was bustling, but there were some ordinary sights that stood out... especially when he ki sensed.

And from the looks of it, someone had assaulted one of the vendors, causing him to squint and scrutinize the scene before looking over and noticing that same bunny girl from earlier... hmm...

"... hoo, I'm guessing you didn't expect one of your co-workers t'get assaulted so early, huh," he spoke up, approaching the much shorter lady, pointing his hand directly at the recovering vendor.
Hidden 5 mos ago Post by Gentlemanvaultboy
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Clover Sandleford

Zun - Just outside the Airport.


Clover had to give this country credit for one thing; nobody around here was going to be giving her ears a second look. She was used to getting at least a side eye, maybe some trouble from people taking her for a mystic, but around here she was just a drop in the bucket. That was a legitimate genie over there, for pete sake. Next to that some bunny girl hopping along down the trail wouldn't draw any attention at all.

It was what trails she should be hopping down that was puzzling her. One direction was as good as any other, she supposed. She'd just be walking around looking listening for insane helicopter noise and the lamentations of stall owners. She was about to play eeny meany miny moe to pick a starting direction when this guy walked up.

No, hold the phone on that. Did she say guy? What she meant was "giant." Some giant in a big white coat walked up and asked her about the noodle guy. Pretty swell of him to pick up on that out of everything going on right now. She smiled up at him. "People that don't treat their servers with respect are no better than fleas or ringworms. That goes double for Nomads. Ain't martial arts suppose to be about respect and discipline and all that jazz? They're lucky I ain't here to set up shop, cause the first one that tried that schtick with me would wind up countin' stars."

She turned fully toward him and put out a hand. "I'm Clover, by the way. Soooooo," she said, letting her eyes wander up and down that long coat of his. "What's up, Doc?"
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Zun - Airport Cafe.



Amongst the high-pitched complaints that erupted from the crowd, the calm and collective Calistrophous only muttered a brief and tired sigh. Carrying his luggage, he found a simple Korean-styled cafe located within the building and proceeded to settle down while grab himself a green tea in the process. There the lizardman sat in utter silence as he picked up a newspaper and sipped on his drink He too was quite disappointed at the news that broke out, as was everyone else, but he did sense that something didn't feel right prior to this.

Could it be a gut-feeling that stirred within his stomach? Or perhaps... something more?

He had heard news dripping down from international television and word-of-mouth of chaotic activity going on across the world. From the rambunctious activities of terrorists, to the silence of shady corporations, the world was in a place of absolute imbalance. And in this area, public chaos ruled supreme. Many believed it was corruption acting at its most nefarious, while some simply shrugged it off. For Callus - being in what would've been his fifth annual tournament in a row - he didn't quite mind that much.

He ought to make his time worth it here in the meantime, as he compliments on what he ought to do next and watches the world fly past him.




Zun - Bar. | Notable Mention: @Ruler Inc Shayton



A rough grumble was all Aleks muttered as he took a gulp of his glass of hard vodka. The brutal stinging sensation filled his entire mouth and gullet as he set his glass back on the counter with a clanking thud. He cared not for the fact that the nomad tournament had been canceled. He didn't even take a flight over here in the first place - rather he had stationed himself here since he arrived from that damn portal. However, he would be lying to himself if he wasn't at least a bit curious about what it was all about. From the little he had heard, it was some famous martial arts fighting championship that acts as a annual hub for nomads of all shapes of life to congregate and flex their strength towards one another.

But now that it's canceled... "Ой блять" there's gonna be hell to pay.

Another swig later and Aleks found his glass completely dry. He growled softly before calling over the nearest bartender with a wave of his hand.

"Эй," the muscular man called over in a thick slavic accent as he slapped another bronze-colored voin on the deck, "Pass me another shot of водка, would you mind?"

The bartender seemed somewhat intimidated by his stature at first - clearly not the same person who passed him the first drink - but quickly acknowledged his request. He filled up the cup with another shot of the same vodka and quickly gave it to him.

"Спасибо," Aleks responded naturally before repeating in their native tongue bluntly, "Thank you."

Then he gave another sip of his drink as he extinguished his senses briefly to savor the flavor of this fine beverage. As soon as he finished his shot, he heard the angry voices of gruff men coming from near the entrance of the bar three seats away. Aleks turned his head to see a biker-group of some kind surround what appeared to be a middle-aged black man. Yet as he looked closely at the brutish man talking to the guy, he saw a gaping hole in his chest.

"О, дерьмо, посмотри на это." Aleks thought briefly before all hell went loose.

The gang soon proceeded to engage with the afro-haired man, however with the latter taking the upper hand with surprising efficiency - disappearing in and out as if flowing with the wind as he quickly began dispatching them one by one. The russian soldier chuckled slightly at this somewhat comically astonishing sight, yet refused to engage in battle. He figured this guy had everything under control.

"Who the hell is this guy?!" one of the mooks yelled in absolute confusion.

That was another question that entered Aleks' mind as he watched the gang got absolutely demolished by their so-called quarry. He could visually hear their bones snapping, nuts cracking, teeth shattering, and their bodies thrown all over the place like mere ragdolls. And when all was settled, the remaining member was told to leave as he high-tailed out of there faster than a deer fleeing from a ravenous bear. With that set and done, the man tipped the bartender as he ordered another glass of his drink - kindly provided on the house by the kind lady in the back.

Aleks remained silent while glancing over at the afro-man. Nothing was better then witnessing a good ole' fist fight in the middle of the bar and man was it entertaining. But he was also incredibly impressed in how he handled the entire fight. He had to be one of those ki-users right?

He hounded the rest of his vodka before moving a seat closer to the fighter and turning his head towards him.

"Oi Афро-chelovek," the bearded Russian called over in Russian, "You did good in beating those lot. Consider me impressed."




Zun - Hotel.



"AWWWWW, FUCK THIS!"

Akhult found himself spitting out a glass of reddish-brown Tiki-Cola out of his blowhole as soon as he heard the most unfortunate news. The 2 liter plastic bottle in his hand crunched instantly with the force of a miniature hydraullic press as he proceeded to throw it across the crummy room he rented. Everything that had been leading up to this was immediately silenced - all that hard work was put in vain for the grand total of nothing. The fuming whale beast stomped around his tiny living room space before immediately putting on his communication beat to his ear.

"Oi boss," Akhult's voice resonated deeply into the mic, "Can ya guess the fuck what happened over 'ere?"

"Yes." the voice from the other side slickly and calmly replied, "We're watching everything unfold as we speak. A real shame that our luck had turned over at the worse time possible."

"I thought the techies were on this whole noise!" the whale beast growled as his fists continued to strengthen.

"You already know that our best are in China ready to rob the largest Bitcoin™ digi-bank in the country," the boss continued explaining, "And even if they were here, they too wouldn't have any clue as whether this was happening or not. This info came completely out of left field."

"I betta hope you weren't settin' me up on this, Boss," Akhult warned with venom in his voice, "I was ready to win and get at it BIG! But now that this operation is a total bust, ya'll better give my damn money for those damn travelin' expenses. They ain't fuckin' cheap ya know!"

"Whoa, whoa - now just hold on a second Aku," the Boss answered as his tone began to rise, "We know what the deal is - and a deal is a deal - but that doesn't mean the job ends here. Not yet anyways."

"Waddya mean, not yet?" Akhult asked, "I don't suppose ya'll have a "Plan B" up 'ere for this exact predicament?"

"That's exactly what we're trying to figure out," the man on the other side affirmed, "Tell ya what. Stick here for the time being until we can figure out our next move. In the meantime, you might wanna do some make-shift reconnaissance and see if you can figure out the reason of the tournament's cancellation. Once we know what our next objective ought to be, we'll contact you. And I promise you'll get your money's worth at the end. Sound good?"

The orcaoid uttered a frustrated groan before finally affirming with him.

"Fine," Akhult responded reluctantly, "Just make it quick, Boss, I don't have all damn day."

With that he proceeded to turn off the device and stormed out of his hotel room. Everyone in his way made sure to leave the big guy plenty of space as Akhult thundered down the slummy hotel and onto the streets. The whale would then tighten his jacket and tip down his fedora as he concealed himself with the crowd. He's going to get to the bottom of this nonsensical debacle one way or the other.

For money called beyond the horizon...
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Zun - Abandoned Building.


Snip.

Snip.


Voyt looked back into the mirror with a critical gaze, turning his head from side to side to examine the state of his hair. He hadn't really gotten much chance to change up appearances since working with MIRAGE and as a result he had been going with the mangy wild look for some time, which had only recently been resting against his shoulders. Now it went just slightly around the neck and though the Gunslinger didn't exactly have access to any products it did look neater. Voyt briefly considered shaving all of it off to more drastically alter his look but if he were to be found it then it would only give him an even more obvious profile for any law enforcement.

'It'll do.' He thought to himself, placing the scissors back onto the sink. Voyt turned the tap on and to his non-expressed surprise a small trickle of water began pouring out, he promptly filled his hands and and splashed it on to his face, slowly but surely erasing the jet black circles around his eyes.

After a while Voyt exited the room with his hat in hand. As opposed to his previous gunslinger getup he now sported a more casual look. Dark brown shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a black pair of jeans with his boots underneath. Voyt placed his poncho, grenades, shotgun and other assassination related instruments into a duffel bag on the floor, pondering to himself for a moment before keeping his revolvers and opting to place them in the back of his pants, hidden by his shirt. He didn't anticipate his new look would fool someone directly but with the crowd of people no doubt looking to head home with the tournament's cancellation, it would at least help him blend in. Voyt placed his stetson back on and brought it low over his face, slinging the duffel bag over his shoulder and exiting out into the sunlight.


Zun - Outside Airport.


With his head low, Voyt gently pushed his way past the Nomads swarmed at the airport arguing with each other, the airport staff and most likely anyone close enough to hear them. The walk from the town to the airport had been relatively quick with everyone mostly congregating around the arena and the airport either trying to get home or trying to start their own impromptu tournament in their anger. Voyt himself was almost swallowed up by the mass of humanity several times much to his chagrin, but now he stood a hair's breadth away from the pristine looking airport. Though there was no less people around he could at least breathe more and plot his next move.

He'd greased a pilot of a small crop duster type plane that with any luck should've been waiting inside to sneak him by security and out of this godforsaken place. But the cancellation of the tournament meant a lot more eyes and ears than the gunslinger had been anticipating. Pushing his way closer to the doors Voyt kept his head down while looking for any sign of his supposed ride out of Zun.
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Zun - Airport.


Yoko couldn't find a Nomad that didn't look stupid or too much of an asshole to pay her any mind. Oi! This was annoying! The young Nomad wondered where the hell all those powerful, wise, Nomads that her grandfather told her about are. Because they aren't here!

Though she was paying some mind to the ki signatures in the room and when she walked by a pair of... Americans, she couldn't help but shudder when she sensed the dark in them. During training with grandfather, he had Yoko go to places with dark auras in Japan so she can get a "taste" of the dark ki. He told her it was so she could learn what evil spirits signatures looked like so she wouldn't be caught off guard or deceived. Pausing for a moment, Yoko looked at the two and realized that they looked like the weakest pair of pansies she ever laid eyes upon!

Well, if the tournament was a bust and she couldn't get any information on the sword; she might as well get an entertaining fight! After all, she was always searching for ways to improve herself and her fighting style for when the real threats come around. While they were talking, Yoko slammed her staff onto the ground loudly to catch their attention.

"A-hem!" Yoko loudly said as she put a hand to her mouth. "Hello, my name is Hatanaka Yoko! The greatest warrior in all of Japan!" She introduced herself before she continued. "Slayer of demons... which I noticed you are in possession of!"

Yoko pointed her staff at Beelzebub... drinking coffee. Truly a being of pure evil! It must be slain at once.

"I will purge you two of its vile influence!"



Zun - Docks.


"Hey! Watch where you're going you psycho!"

When Aiko heard this, she ominously stopped the motorcycle which silently shook for a few moments as Aiko had her back to the Canadian. Calvin was probably confused as to what was going on until Aiko craned her head around towards him, loudly shouting.

"... WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST FUCKING SAY TO ME, MOTHERFUCKER?!"


Aiko gave Calvin a murderous glare as she waited for his response. Which she hoped involved him running away, pissing himself, or else he'll be running away pissing blood.
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