Leaves@PlatinumSkink He's limited by the Manton Effect, so he cannot affect organic life with his telekinesis. To throw her around she'd have to be weairing clothing tight and strong enough to toss her around in without breaking.
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Pierce the Heavens with your spoon!
STATUS: Starting new YouTube show, Hell Yeah Gaming! Lots of work to do still, but getting me to 100 subs for a custom URL would be of tremendous help! youtube.com/user/DarthGlamd… 7 yrs ago
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Starting new YouTube show, Hell Yeah Gaming! Lots of work to do still, but getting me to 100 subs for a custom URL would be of tremendous help! youtube.com/user/DarthGlamd…
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Protean certainly had a great deal of fun messing with the Wards as they trained! It was cute the way Margrave recoiled when he was slapped in the face by a tail, and Messiah's attempt to assault him was nothing short of precious. Once they had been good and stressed out, the real entertainment began. Their bodies focused on the running, their minds still reeling from his suddenly attacking them, it made for the perfect level of stress to really test their reasoning functions. So as a sphinx he gave three riddles. Much to his surprise, though he didn't show it, the first of his riddles was answered near instantly by Tulpa. Damn, and he thought that was going to be the hardest pone, too! "Fantastic, Evelyn! You get to take a break! Everyone else, keep running your laps! Now who will be the one to fight me?"
A few moments passed, and the second riddle was provided an answer. The senior hero gave a hearty laugh for Margrave. "Yes, you are correct! A stamp! Now keep up your laps, my boy!"
That left one unanswered riddle, and two Wards. Messiah, the newly appointed leader, and Epsilon, the largely non-combative tinker. Using a long, serpentine tongue, Protean licked his lips and tasted the air. If things turned out how he thought they would, this would be a most interesting situation indeed. "The coin that's not a nickel is a quarter, and the other coin is the nickel!" Ah, there was the recognition in Messiah's eyes! Just as he had anticipated. "Yes! You got it, Alessa! Keep running, girl! And that leaves..." The sphinx man turned his eyes to follow Ira as she ran her own pace around the gym, keeping his eyes locked onto her. "The weakest link. Exactly as I thought. Good news is you can stop running. Bad news is..."
The sphinx-like body began to bubble over, boiling once more into the primordial ooze that made up Protean's form whenever he shifted his body structure. This time he grew tall, lean, but muscular. He appeared mostly human this time. Mostly. His body covered itself in a thin layer of black fur, while his head grew horns and took on a distinctive bovine appearance. For all intents and purposes, Protean had become a minotaur.
"Bad news is you're going to take some boxing lessons from me, 'contact' style." Now the real test would begin. The question remained though, would they figure it out?
Noble watched and observed silently as Chatterbox engaged her. The soldiers around them kept their weapons trained on the heroes, but as he went on attention seemed to be diverting ever so slightly. Noble kept a watchful eye on the two her weapon was trained on, naturally, unable to get any kind of vantage on the sniper mercenary currently preoccupied with cutting himself loose higher up on the hill. Once Arsenal stepped out into the open, the heroine looked rather relieved. The soldiers relaxed a fair bit too.
“As to how things should proceed, Ms. Noble. Perhaps we could discuss this over dinner?”
She actually cracked a smile at that. His words, and more importantly his power, were making headway into her psyche. Though her response sounded pleasant (or as pleasant as can be coming from a woman holding a gun of unknown capabilities at your face), her guard hadn't dropped. At least not enough to make any drastic or sudden moves.
"I thought it was common knowledge that I'm spoken for. You wouldn't want to piss off Inkscape. He always tells me I've got to work on my temper, but the last time a villain got the upper hand on me... Well, let's just say they should be glad they regenerate." She followed that up with a chuckle.
“Though, in all seriousness, I'm sure my comrades and I would rather not go to jail, which would surely be the result of this encounter. However, that's not really up to us, so what did you have in mind for how things go, moving forwards, mmm?”
"Pretty much just the jail thing, sweetie. If you're lucky you won't end up in the Birdcage. None of you look familiar, so I'm guessing this is your first offense? If you all surrender now, I'm sure you can get a decent plea bargain. Fuck, I'll even put in a good word."
"21,786 to 1!" A new voice called out from the sidelines. Noble jerked her head to see who had spoken just in time for a large hub cap to smack her in the chest, knocking her back several feet and onto the ground where she fell unconscious. The hub cap bounced from her body and flew through the air like a discuss, striking the nearest PRT soldier across his helmet-protected face. It continued to ricochet, bouncing to the next soldier and knocking him on his ass. Finally, as though it were some sort of crazy, high tech homing boomerang, flew toward the armored transport truck to be caught by a young man. He was only a few inches taller than five feet, blonde hair with blue eyes, and dressed in prisoner transport garb. Gamble had gotten free, and with his power created a situation of the greatest unlikely outcome: That he would single-handedly defeat Noble and the remaining PRT soldiers in one fell swoop.
"21,786 to 1. That was the odds of me taking out that hero and her goons. 31 to 1. That was the likelihood I'd survive the crash without any major injury." He pointed to a small cut on his forehead, barely a scuff. "Probability that I'd get out of that truck before they got me to the birdcage: 5001 to 2. Thanks for being my 2. I'll ask who the fuck you are once we're out of here. Now I assume you've got a plan to get our asses gone before more heroes show up? 7 to 1, in case you were wondering the odds."
The Minutemen and Others - Denver Skyline
While Kyoshi conversed with a mysterious caller, G4M3R tapped his unique ear implants, doing his best to concentrate on two conversations at once. Outsider being here, and even better actually considering the offer, was pure joyous. What Kyoshi was discussing on the phone though, that was business. Important business. Saving someone's life, just just their actual physical life, but acting as an inspiration to do better? That was the perfect kind of PR that his Minutemen needed! Getting to beat up on the weakest gang in the Norther Colorado area to do it? That's just a bonus.
"Alright Minutemen, sounds like we've got ourselves our first honest-to-goodness hero request! Let's make sure we do this right so everyone knows that the Protectorate aren't the only force for good in the world, am I right?" G4M3R held his hand up for some high fives from his team. "Outsider, I'd love for you to come along. I know we can handle the Rockers, hell just one of us would be fine against those dopes, but if things get hairy I'd bet you could make them surrender on sight alone! Hahaha!"
The leader of the Minutemen turned toward Celia and cocked his head. "Hmm. Weird." He hadn't meant to say that out loud. His cybernetic ears were detecting electronic signals coming from her body. A ton of them. He decided it was best not to say anything, for now. If anything, he'd like to keep tabs on her. "Hey, you want to come along, too? You can make a name for yourself as a cape? And it'd be more appealing to the public if we had more than one female member."
“If you let him go, he's free to his own devices. He can wander around the city, kill if he wants to, whatever. I don't think the College really made plans for nonwinning survivors. Maybe they'll be returned to their own worlds after the whole thing's over with?”
So they didn't have any fallbacks, no contingencies for survivors? Weren't these college folk supposed to be well educated? Either way, that didn't bode well for a number of these people. Runch closed shut the book after seeing the third entry on the drone, and turned his attention to the unconscious assassin currently stuck in his honeytrap. The man said so himself, he'd be coming after Runch and anybody else with lethal intent. The good captain couldn't let that happen, at least not until the contest was over. There was only one thing to do. Runch outstretched his hands and expelled pellets, orbs, squares, all manner of shapes of cereal. The nutritious goodness cascaded like a waterfall, burying the man until all that remained exposed was his head. An entire ton of cereal would keep Serhan pinned down. This super dense, heavy cereal wasn't good for eating, though, so Runch made sure to leave a nice big pile of his extra-healthy recipe in mouth's reach. Leaving the hitman to starve would have been a horrific method of killing, after all.
That chore done, it was time to find a new place to rest. Bartholomew would have loved to stay in the cathedral, but making his would-be killer a temporary roommate, coupled with the weight of blowing up half the place had on his conscience, guaranteed a very uncomfortable stay. The pirate strolled out the front door, whistling as he had not a care in the world. Then the horizon lit up like a great big fireball. Runch stopped right in his tracks, both the jaunt and the tune. His head cocked to the side and he commented, "Wow. Whatever caused that, I'll have to fight... Or something powerful enough to beat that." He paused, staring into the red-orange glow off in the distance. His slack-jaw tightened up into a grin. "Omnomnomnom! That's really exciting! I hope I don't get burned! Only thing worse than an undercooked meal is an overcooked one! Omnomnom!"
After another twenty minutes of journeying, Runch stopped. The environment had changed. No longer was he surrounded on all sides by churches, mosques, cathedrals, and holy buildings. Now the structures appeared to be ancient. Well, not that some of those holy buildings weren't, but all of these landmarks looked positively archaic. Columns, bathhouses, grand monoliths, and the like. He approached a large coliseum, then turned it away. No, such a thing was not his preferred place of rest. There was no telling what kinds of battle-mad creatures may jump him in his sleep. Something else, something more fitting. Blast, it would have been so much nicer to have his crew accompanying him. Sometimes it felt like Smith never slept at all. Must be a ninja thing.
Ah, here was something beautiful! Runch came across an old vineyard, small in size but otherwise perfect! The old berry bushes still produced a small number of their little fruits, and the ancient technologies used to press the juice into wine shined with the light of a star. Or that was just how Runch saw them, as they were old and dilapidated, but not everything needs to shine on the outside to burn bright on the inside! The pirate rushed to the bushes and picked a few berries, opening up the journal to see what information it recorded on them. Beautiful, he didn't even have to experiment, he knew their chemical makeup and nutritional content! Well after sampling their taste, Runch produced some of his special "bloodberry" recipe, designed to give extra energy, stamina, and nutrition for healing wounds, ate his fill of dinner, and decided it was time to turn in for the night. He would find his next opponent, whomever that was, come the morning light.
So they didn't have any fallbacks, no contingencies for survivors? Weren't these college folk supposed to be well educated? Either way, that didn't bode well for a number of these people. Runch closed shut the book after seeing the third entry on the drone, and turned his attention to the unconscious assassin currently stuck in his honeytrap. The man said so himself, he'd be coming after Runch and anybody else with lethal intent. The good captain couldn't let that happen, at least not until the contest was over. There was only one thing to do. Runch outstretched his hands and expelled pellets, orbs, squares, all manner of shapes of cereal. The nutritious goodness cascaded like a waterfall, burying the man until all that remained exposed was his head. An entire ton of cereal would keep Serhan pinned down. This super dense, heavy cereal wasn't good for eating, though, so Runch made sure to leave a nice big pile of his extra-healthy recipe in mouth's reach. Leaving the hitman to starve would have been a horrific method of killing, after all.
That chore done, it was time to find a new place to rest. Bartholomew would have loved to stay in the cathedral, but making his would-be killer a temporary roommate, coupled with the weight of blowing up half the place had on his conscience, guaranteed a very uncomfortable stay. The pirate strolled out the front door, whistling as he had not a care in the world. Then the horizon lit up like a great big fireball. Runch stopped right in his tracks, both the jaunt and the tune. His head cocked to the side and he commented, "Wow. Whatever caused that, I'll have to fight... Or something powerful enough to beat that." He paused, staring into the red-orange glow off in the distance. His slack-jaw tightened up into a grin. "Omnomnomnom! That's really exciting! I hope I don't get burned! Only thing worse than an undercooked meal is an overcooked one! Omnomnom!"
After another twenty minutes of journeying, Runch stopped. The environment had changed. No longer was he surrounded on all sides by churches, mosques, cathedrals, and holy buildings. Now the structures appeared to be ancient. Well, not that some of those holy buildings weren't, but all of these landmarks looked positively archaic. Columns, bathhouses, grand monoliths, and the like. He approached a large coliseum, then turned it away. No, such a thing was not his preferred place of rest. There was no telling what kinds of battle-mad creatures may jump him in his sleep. Something else, something more fitting. Blast, it would have been so much nicer to have his crew accompanying him. Sometimes it felt like Smith never slept at all. Must be a ninja thing.
Ah, here was something beautiful! Runch came across an old vineyard, small in size but otherwise perfect! The old berry bushes still produced a small number of their little fruits, and the ancient technologies used to press the juice into wine shined with the light of a star. Or that was just how Runch saw them, as they were old and dilapidated, but not everything needs to shine on the outside to burn bright on the inside! The pirate rushed to the bushes and picked a few berries, opening up the journal to see what information it recorded on them. Beautiful, he didn't even have to experiment, he knew their chemical makeup and nutritional content! Well after sampling their taste, Runch produced some of his special "bloodberry" recipe, designed to give extra energy, stamina, and nutrition for healing wounds, ate his fill of dinner, and decided it was time to turn in for the night. He would find his next opponent, whomever that was, come the morning light.
From what I gather some of you are still between going to their next area.
Also as for tournament, who has done their prelims already? At this rate the tournament will be the first thing to finish.
@Spiffy and I have our prelim done, and @Ryougu did his a little while ago. I haven't checked to see if anybody else was participating in the fights themselves, but I don't think so.
Solo got with me and said it'd be best for me to go ahead and update, so the three teams can probably expect an update sometime this weekend, whenever I've got the downtime to devote to it.
You're totally fine. Everyone here is a writer (hopefully not just in name only). If there's a word we don't recognize, I think we're all versed in the use of google fu.
In
You are able to see into the future. How does the avatar above you die?
→
9 yrs ago
Forum: Spam Forum
I'll say lung cancer from too many cigarettes. That looks like someone who knows how to inhale.
Tournament Battle: Enter Gornfliti!
@Spiffy
After sign-ups, it wasn't long before "Gornfliti, the Minish Manhunter" was called to one of the arenas for a preliminary bout. The name was likely to cause confusion in some of the spectators, but it ultimately wasn't of any real consequence. Gorn stepped into the ring with a pleasant smile plastered upon his face. Confliti rode along his shoulder as usual, his smile less pleasant and more excited. This was the first time that he'd actually get to participate in a real sanctioned fighting tournament! He'd been looking forward to the prospect for nearly two thousand years, and now here he was! The little minish trembled with anticipation, while Gorn remained solid and steady, ever Confliti's rock.
"Remember what we agreed, buddy. You only defend. I'm taking our opponents down!"
"Hahaha, of course my friend! It was my idea, after all!"
The two settled on one end of the arena while their opponent stepped in on the other side. A well built hylian man, definitely a trained soldier, would be their opponent in the preliminaries. He wore a mix of chain and plate armor, and carried with him a glaive. So he was a melee fighter that kept a distance, just like Gorn. This was going to be interesting!
"Are the fighers ready?" asked the announcer. "Bring him on!" answered the armored hylian.
"Just a moment!" Gorn called back. The others gave pause as he shifted some weight, allowing his heavy pack to slide off from his back. The goron then set it near the edge of the ring, and out of the way. Now all he carried was his shield, chain ball, and of course, his best friend. "Ok, we're ready now."
"Then begin!" Apparently the announcer didn't catch the odd word choice Gorn used, but it no longer mattered. The fight had begun! The hylian was the first to react, opening with a leaping thrust of his glaive straight down at the goron. Gorn reacted instinctively by curling up into a ball and rolling straight ahead. The hylian struck only ground, while Gorn ended up on the opposite end of the ring, having proverbially traveled right between his opponent's legs.
"WoOoOoaaah hey, I aM dizzZZzzy!" Confliti managed to wheeze out, stumbling around a bit on Gorn's shoulder. He recovered quickly, shaking it off. "Come on Gorn! You know I hate when you do that!"
"Sorry," Gorn responded jovially. He wasn't able to say much else, as the hylian spun back around and swiped at him with his glaive. The polearm found itself bouncing off of a stone shield.
"What are you apologizing for?" the soldier asked, thrusting again only for his weapon to be deflected once more.
"Just talking to my friend, don't worry about it." Conflitti narrowed his eyes, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. The soldier shrugged, and thrust again, this time for Gorn's head. There was his opportunity! As the weapon came moving in, Confliti mustered all his strength to a mighty leap! Yes! He was going to land on that spear now, then he could get in close and really put the hurt on that guy! Excitement turned to disappointment in slow motion. Before the spear made it close enough, before Confliti could properly land on it, Gorn lifted his shield up to deflect the blow with enough force to knock the hylian off balance. The minish ended up colliding with the backside of the shield and falling comically back on Gorn's arm.
"Ouch! Ah come on I almost... You know what? Fastball Special!" Confliti didn't wait for an apology from Gorn, and neither did he receive one. The minish warrior scurried over to Gorn's chain ball, then grabbed hold of a small hook that had been welded to the giant orb. Gorn smiled, then swung the weapon at their opponent with a mighty fist! The hylian caught his balance just in time to jump back, but noticed something off. He didn't even need to dodge, that attack was going to miss him by a few feet.
"You missed me by a mile!" he called back, striking the tip of his glaive down into the chain, nailing Gorn's weapon to the ground.
Gorn gave the man a playful grin. "I wasn't trying to!"
The hylian's face contorted, first in confusion, then in raw pain. White-blue volts of electricity visibly surged through his metal armor for several seconds, forcing him to release his weapon. Once the surge ceased, he stood a few feet back from his starting position, breathing heavily but not out yet. "He's got some fortitude!" Confliti exclamed, hanging into the man's breast plate. Not many people wearing a full suit of metal armor could take an electric shock like that and stay standing. Still, he couldn't be that far off from defeat. The minish allowed himself to slide down the polished metal until he reached the man's ankle, where the armor had to be thin to allow movement. Without hesitation he stabbed his greatsword into the man's ankle, between the plates, causing a most agreeable action. The soldier howled in pain, kicked his injured foot forward violently, and fell flat on his back, tumbling out of the arena boundaries.
"Ring out! The winner is Gornfliti, the Minish Manhunter!"
Confliti flew back in the air, thanks to the man's pained kick, but caught his fall with his leaf paraglider. He landed near Gorn, who squat down long enough for Confliti to hop on his hand and get back into position on his friend's shoulder. "Yes! I won! Take that giant! I am a mighty warrior!" Gorn only laughed in response.
The goron merchant recovered his travel pack, then wandered over to the spot where their opponent was now getting up. The hylian's armor was blackened by the surge of electricity, and he now walked with a limp. More than his body though, his pride was injured. "What, are you here to gloat?"
"Nope." The goron produced a glass bottle from his pack, filled about half way with a white liquid. "Would you like some nutritious milk?"
"Oh. Yeah, that sounds really nice. Thank you." The soldier took the bottle, popped open the top, and drank heartily.
"That'll be fifty rupees."
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