Fox
Bartz
Luigi
Samus
Naija
Steve
James
Slayer
Jack
Shantae
Cloud



Tag Team Battle

Randomization generated using random.com and the all-powerful decidermachine.

Team One
1. Fox
2. Luigi

VS

1. Zangief (Street Fighter)
2. The Avenger (????)

Team Two
1. Cloud
2. Naija

VS

1. Mitsurugi (Soul Calibur)
2. Lux (League of Legends)

Team Three
1. Jack & Shadow
2. Samus

VS

1. Cyrax (Mortal Kombat)
2. Juno & Lupus (Jet Force Gemini)

Team Four
1. Shantae
2. Bartz

VS

1. Isaac (Golden Sun)
2. Rayman (Rayman)

Survivor
1. Steve
2. James
3. Slayer




Welcome! Welcome! Welcome, ladies and gents to anotha’ excitin’ Smash Event. We have a lot of participants this month, fightin’ fo’ the cash and fightin’ fo’ the prize! And what are the prizes this year, Money boy!

Well, Master Fox we have here quite the exquisite selection:

First, a mystical feather thought to belong to an ancient and powerful bird! Phoenix Down

Secondly, the keys to a mysterious mode of transportation.

And thirdly, a magical dragon fly from the Realm of Dragons, hm, hm, hm…Sparx the Dragonfly

Steve stroked his chin with interest, grinning with competition gleaming in his blue eyes.

“Brilliant! Well, now let us get on with it. Moving on to the rules!”



1. Cheaters. Cheaters never prosper, mates. You cheat and you will have to deal with me. You are also automatically disqualified. You will never be allowed in the Smash Arena again. Cheatin' is merely not followin' the rules. Follow the rules, mates. You can't go wrong.
2. Tag Team Matches. If you're in a Tag Team Match, then one of you is fighting at all times until that fighter tags his or her teammate's hand and swaps out or is knocked unconscious. If a fighter is knocked unconscious, then his or her partner automatically joins the fight. The battle is over when all opponents on one team are knocked out or yield.
3. Tag Team Courtesy. A successful team is a team that knows how to communicate and work together. If you feel in over your head, then you can always tag out and swap with your partner.
4. Survivor. This is one of the most challenging areas of our competition where it's every man (or woman) for him or herself. Everyone is your enemy. The last one standing is the victor.
5. Single Elimination. You lose, then you lose, mate. There are no second chances. Try again next time.
6. Cash Out. The startin' pot is 10,000 gold. As you or your team advances, people are goin' to start placin' bets. You come again next time, and you will have some Fame. Fame will increase the pot on your matches and tougher opponents will want to challenge you. We will go into Fame later when you folks actually acquire some. For now, you are a bunch of nobodies, but some of you will leave this place somebodies.
7. Battle Conduct. Rule of Cool and be sure to reference the basic combat guide on the OOC OP of the main game. If ever I need to go into further detail, then I will but so far everyone has been doing well as far as the conduct in the missions have gone.
8. Healing Items and Healing Magic are banned. We do not want these matches to last forever. We want them to end. Thus the ban. Matches are over when it's over.

The underground subway arena was cool in temperature and bore a wet cement smell along with other odors from multiple drugs. A mixture of the Platform City wealthy and riff-raff surrounded the square stage on two floors. A net encasing the stage protected the fighters within from any objects that might drop or be purposefully thrown at those who the crowd disliked.

For Team One, the first pairings were: Fox and Zangief.

Team Two, Cloud and Mitsurugi (will be using dice for this match because I can't really face myself lol).

Team Three, Jack & Shadow and Cyrax.

Team Four, Shantae and Isaac.

All fighters would be fighting on an equal playing field. However, it would not be equal for those who swap out. The possibility for victory will still be somewhat equal.

---

Fox’s opponent stood across from him—a giant of a man! The man was humungous, standing at seven feet and weighing 400 pounds. The Russian had been wearing a white T-shirt and blue denim jeans that barely contained the mountainous muscle stacked upon his wide frame. Curling his arms at the elbows and sinking slowly until his thighs were parallel to the floor. The bear of a man, the legendary Zangief grit his teeth. His eyes near fiercely bulged from their sockets as he flexed, his pants and shirt exploding into shreds as his every muscle seemed to effortlessly inflate with his might.

“RAAAH!” Zangief bellowed.

The crowd cheered, enthused by the display of power. Moneybags had a shamelessly greedy smile on his face as his betting bag started to swell with currency in result. Zangief straightened and spread his tree-trunk arms, curling them as he flexed biceps bigger than Fox’s head.

“I, Zangief, Little Fox. I will skin you and use your fur as new pants!” the wrestler declared.

Standing behind the ropes was a man wearing a mask and hiding beneath a red and white hood. The current mask he had on his face was smiling. His arms were crossed before his chest as he stared across the ring at Luigi. No one had ever seen the jester of a man before.



Cloud gazed across the ring at the samurai who was seated cross-legged on the floor. His hands were resting on his thighs and a small reed was protruding from the corner of his lip. His tongue played with it, causing it to bob up and down as he stared nonchalantly through half-lidded eyes off to the side.

“Are you ready?” Cloud asked him as his hand went behind his head to grasp the wrapped hilt of his buster sword.

Mitsurugi’s black eyes slid to their corners as he first peered at Cloud before turning his head to regard him.

“Hmph, I guess. Last guy who fought me with a sword that big didn’t last ten seconds. You sure that sword isn’t for show?”

Cloud calmly removed the buster sword from behind his back and brought it before himself. Both of his hands took hold of the hilt as he held the massive sword aloft at a cleaving angle. Spreading his feet comfortably, Cloud slowly sank into a stance and a flash of light winked between the two swordsmen. The light had been a glare off of Cloud’s buster sword. In what seemed like a flash, his sword was against the samurai’s half-drawn katana blade.

Mitsurugi’s black eyes were shrunk in surprise at how fast Cloud had moved. If he hadn’t been a master swordsman, then Cloud might had actually cut him down. The corner of the samurai’s mouth quirked with excitement.

Cloud dashed backwards to allow the samurai to rise to his feet.

“Satisfied?” Cloud asked.

Mitsurugi laughed softly behind a smile. “Hai.”

A blonde-haired girl leaned upon the ropes of the ring. Her head was tipped into her hand and her cheeks were puffed out in boredom as she watched Mitsurugi and Cloud measure each other’s dicks with their blades. Her blue eyes lazily rolled over to Naija. Lux’s wand was tucked under her arm, sparkling with a strange luminescence as she tried to figure out what her opponent exactly was. Was she really a fish? Really? Good lord.



The being that stood on the other side of the ring was difficult to determine if he was man or machine. He stood as still as a statute as though needing to be powered on. It was when the fighter’s head moved, motioning down to his opponent’s dog that any life was indicated. The voice that left the machine was low and slightly distorted by an artificial timbre.

“Your pet won’t be able to save you,” said Cyrax.

The soldier standing behind Cyrax looked down at his armored dog, and similarly the armored dog looked up at him raising his ears in surprise. Juno rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face. That guy’s dog may not have been his dog, Lupus, but he wouldn’t have underestimated him. The husky was huge and would probably put up a fight protecting his master…or was it a her? Juno didn’t know much about his robotic teammate but as he glanced from Lupus to Samus, he wished Cyrax had been fighting him (he didn’t know Samus was actually a woman). Juno was eager to see how well Lupus faired against Jack’s dog.



Another blonde-haired and blue eyed swordsman stood in the ring, gazing upon the young woman who stood before him. His face beneath his eyes was hidden behind a yellow scarf and he stood with his side turned slightly toward her, his hand upon the hilt of a short sword. The swordsman looked young enough to be a teenager. His eyes were calm and his stance was confident as he silently studied the woman.

Behind him was a strange character that had no limbs, but he had hands and feet. He was lounging in a lawn chair, wearing sunglasses and sipping lemonade through a straw. He looked like he was on vacation. His hands and feet seemed to hover in proximity to his purple torso, and two locks of hair protruded from his scalp in an unkempt fashion. He looked like he had gotten into a fight with a lawnmower.

“Hey, pal, if you need help just let me know,” said Rayman to Isaac, who never answered back.

The swordsman’s eyes motioned from Shantae to Bartz as he thought to himself.

I shouldn’t judge a book by its cover but…I think the other guy would have been more of my style, Isaac mused.

---

With the first matches having been laid out, Steve made one final announcement:

Lawman LV.1

---

"The only person who needs saving here is you Tinman. Shadow's just here to nibble on what's left of the competition when this is over and done with. Though I might need to break out something bigger then a can opener for you."

Jack rolled his scarred shoulders and bent his thick neck from side to side, producing a number of faint cracks as he stepped underneath the warm glow of the overhead arena lights. His dark grey blow-back handgun was already clutched firmly in his right hand and he pulled back on the slide as he moved. A familiar, threatening metallic click reached his ears as the well kept components snapped back into place and shoved a high caliber round into the chamber for firing. 8 rounds, one already in the chamber with plenty of clips to spare.

Shadow stayed by Jack's side as he moved. The large black and white dog remained slightly crouched, growling in a low feral tone as he bore his ivory teeth at their opponents across the fighting arena. The sharp scars turning upwards from the dog's black lips almost made it seem like it had some kind of unhinged grin as it readied itself to taste blood.

"A metal metal man. A boy and his dog. Vs me, my dog, and some strang guy in an orange suit of armor."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he looked over the metal man facing off against him. Just hearing his voice and seeing the strange stillness he possessed made it difficult for the cop to tell if he was a robot, some kind of cyborg, or just another spooky prick in a mechanical suit with really stupid looking dreadlocks sticking out the back. What wasn't difficult to tell was whether or not the man machine was dangerous. Appearances could be deceiving or incredibly forth coming. Just glancing at his opponent made it clear to Jack the enemy in front of him seemed better suited to the orange fellow he'd be paired up with. They both looked hi-tech and neither seemed totally human.

Behind the dreadlock sporting metal man Jack could see a young man and what he assumed was some kind of dog. The two were dressed in strange suits, but both possessed a military air to them.

“I’d really rather see who’s the better dog owner, but I guess I’m stuck fighting robo-dreadlocks here until I can get him to tag out.”



As soon as the shout was given to begin Jack's arm up flew from his side. Left hand cupping his right to support and steady his aim Jack quickly leveled his pistol at Cyrax's right knee and pulled the trigger three times in rapid succession. A trio of deafening bangs rang out as hot gasses and metal left the chamber of the gun into the open air.

"Shadow, around!" Jack yelled over his shots and Shadow quickly sprang into action and began bounding across the arena. Instead of blinding charging at the obviously dangerous man-thing Shadow kept his distance and attempted to circle around and position himself behind his target. Attacking from opposing directions was ideal for splitting the attention of an enemy. The canine's predator mindset understood the line of thought all too well.

Observing her newfound partner battle his opponent, Samus Aran watches from behind the arena on Jack's side. The concept of Smash tournaments was far from alien to her, as she participated in four of these championships in the past. However, they were generally limited towards those of the "Nintendo" sector, with occasional "Special Guests" like the gritty Solid Snake, the speedy Sonic The Hedgehog, the daunting Cloud and even the lustrous Bayonetta. So when she stops to look at her crowd, she didn't recognize any of them. Her partner looked like your average male human with his pet dog, while her opponents consisted of a jacket-yellow robot and a smaller individual who also had a dog of his own (and a weird one at that). Of course, this wasn't her typical Smash Battle that she's known for a long time. This is a tag-team battle and she'll need to wait her turn for a bit.

Regardless, these individuals didn't seem all too special to her. Of course, with Jack squaring off against the yellow bot, who knows how long he'll be up against him. He seemed to be the inferior fighter compared to his opponent. However, he may more than meets the eye so who really knows. She simply watches silently as the words to "FIGHT" start the match.

Character: Steve
Level: 1
Location: Smash Arena
Tag: @Lugubrious@Zarkun

The survival arena seemed crowded, at least around the edges. Steve looked at his opponents with a smirk. Reaching in his inventory, he pulled out a pair of cobblestone blocks. He ran at each James and Slayer, acting as if to punch each of them before throwing the blocks to the ground in front of them. Each block grew to a 3-meter cube, stuck to the ground. "Come at me!" he laughed, pulling a wooden sword out in his left hand, pulling a stack of cobblestone in his right. "Catch me if you can." With that, he began jumping, easily making a 9-meter tower. Looking back and forth between James and Slayer, Both of them seemed to be stronger than him. He'd expected one of them to hit him by now, though. With a leap, he aimed to land on James, hopefully knowing him over, if nothing else.

For a man who not only ran but also participated in his very own gentlemen's fight club, the prospect of an arena battle was one Slayer did not want to pass up. The grand fights against Brigan and Odin, remarkable as they'd been, had been one-sided matchups of a single powerful foe against numerous heroes, and they hadn't quite managed to satiate the vampire's taste in combat. A friendly sparring match against fellow heroes, meanwhile, offered just the chance he sought. In the course of such a duel, he would get to know his allies -and their abilities- better, and perhaps even get warmed up. With that in mind, he signed up for the fights, and when the appointed time came Slayer arrived in a timely manner.

Soon before his appointed bout was to begin, he managed to wheedle some information out of a few of the assembling spectators. Most fights, it appeared, were not held in vicinity of Tetris Castle at all, but rather outsourced to different realms via the same teleporter network that had been used to transport him to the twilight kingdom just the other day. However, this first match would take place in a somewhat unremarkable arena within the grounds of the castle; a sort of dirt-floored, fenced-in paddock, perhaps once used for training with horses but now augmented with enough flair to give it a competitive atmosphere, would serve as the locale. As he was ushered in, Slayer couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the banality of the arena, and a whiff of irritation at all the onlookers. Observers filled his own establishment, of course, but there one could be assured of good company. These rowdy, common mooks, separated from the fight by imperfect wooden barriers, gave him a bad feeling. Indifferent as he was to most situations, Slayer heartily disliked being made sport of. Still, if these people wanted a show, who was he to be a stick in the mud?

His opponents appeared, and Slayer recognized one without delay: the futuristic soldier, with armor less bulky and a heart less bold than Samus's. The gentleman did not forget James' near-absence during the latter part of the battle for the world not long ago, but he forgave it. There was little sense in holding grudges, after all. With such a plain arena, Slayer reasoned that James possessed a net advantage. There was nowhere he could retreat, but with nothing to use as cover, his foes couldn't do much against his gunfire. Stroking his beard, he hummed. That will be a problem. Given the definite downgrade of my status, I may not be able to rely upon my cloak to block bullets as I approach. I could stroll through them, of course, but that wouldn't be fair... During his musing, Slayer checked out his other enemy. A new face, and a literal straight one, this man did not seem to possess a single round edge. He looked, the vampire surmised, just like a bunch of stuck-together cardboard boxes brought to life. With no knowledge of Steve's abilities, he would have to use trial and error to figure out how to deal with him. No sooner had Slayer arrived at that conclusion than the three-way free-for-all commenced.

The flattest character was the first to move. Slayer trained his eyes and easygoing smile on Steve as he ran toward him, swinging a cube of something that resembled rock. Curiously, the blocky man appeared to be trying to assault both Slayer and James at the same time in this manner, and the distance between the two made his trek into a zig-zag that struck the gentleman as ludicrous. When his time came, he stood stock-till save for his quizzical expression while Steve approached, wondering if he really was going to try and hit him with the cube. Before doing so, however, Steve hurled his block down, and in an impossible feat it grew from less than a foot across in all dimensions to a whopping three meters. Still calm, Slayer stepped backward to nonchalantly watch as Steve produced a sword before repeating the maneuver again and again, until he stood on a great pillar three blocks high. If his eyes weren't fibbing, Slayer calculated him to be a commendable 9 meters in the air, or about 30 feet. He could only wonder why. Did he plan to hide up there? The vampire could not imagine that such an energetic individual could trump him in a battle of patience. On the plus side, the immense pillar provided ample cover from James.

Slayer squinted as he looked upward, cupped a hand around his mouth, and declared in a somewhat louder voice, ”No need for tomfoolery with building blocks, my good man. When you're ready for proper fisticuffs, I shall be ready for you down here.”

The next moment, however, Steve proved he had other intentions. Without hesitation the polygonal being threw himself off the top of the tower he'd just made, in the general direction of James. Still confused, Slayer exhaled a short, laughing sigh. Thirty feet of height gave James plenty of time to dodge, if not lodge a few bullets in his attacker's sternum. Offhandedly Slayer wondered if the soldier was using real bullets in this fight, and if not what he might be using instead, but he gave a shrug. "What an intriguing style," he remarked, not putting quite enough effort to mask the disdain in his voice. "It must be centered around audacious acts to throw opponents off guard, so that highly telegraphed but surely devastating attacks might have a chance of landing." He put his back against the pillar and sat down, his cape taking on the shape of a chair as he did to support him. He rested an elbow on its armrest and his head in that arm's hand, extracted his pipe from his pocket, and watched the proceedings.

James had been waiting at the location for the arena for awhile, mainly cleaning his weapons in preparation and readying his knife by sharpening it. Once they called everyone together for their matches, James took his position and waited until the participants for the survivor match were called and when he stepped out, he found himself facing off against one of the suit wearing guy from their mission to Odinsphere and a guy who looked to literally be made from living blocks. Charger's voice quickly spoke out for only James to hear. "Remember our cloak and suit wearing friend over there can deliver some seriously damaging blows in melee, so if you HAVE to use your knife on him, try to keep to your specialty, speedy and accurate. And also avoid taking a hit if you can." James opened his mouth to reply when the call to fight was given and the man made of blocks attacked by...

"Stone blocks? Really? This is ridicu-" Instinct took over as James leaped away from the block that Blockman put in front of him, the Imago Loop flying free of it's holster and peppering the odd man with fire. None of it was overly accurate, so it was unlikely any of the shots hit, and he only watched as the block person made a tower out of more stone blocks. Charger hummed thoughtfully, analyzing this particular opponent, while the Nightstalker swapped from his hand cannon to his sniper rifle and leaped further back before scoping up on the fellow. "Don't need to catch ya mate. Just wait." Charger had predicted that the person would likely make a jumping attack of some kind to cause heavy damage with the sword and, sure enough, Blockman did just that. Predicting his trajectory of travel, James fired a single round from the Stillpiercer, aimed center mass on the falling man of blocks, before smoothly placing the rifle back on his back and drawing his knife.

When Blockman reached the Guardian, James would catch his arms, fall on his back and kick off, sending the block-formed man sailing further through the air as he rolled back onto his feet and spun to face him. "You want to make this a melee? I can do that." After all, Hunters prided themselves on their knife fighting skills along with their gunslinging skills.

Character: Steve
Level: 1
Location: Smash Arena
Tag: @Lugubrious@Zarkun

Steve laughed through the pain of being shot. He'd been thrown off James and away from Slayer. He threw three more blocks towards James, purposefully missing to land around Slayer and grow, forming the same shape as the pillar he'd stood on, only sideways. He then ran in, swinging the wooden sword towards James' head. He pulled back at the last second, though, as he brought his blocky foot up, aiming to kick the man in the chin.

From his comfortable, reclined position, Slayer viewed the spat between Steve and James. Just as he supposed, the soldier proved himself quick on the draw, and riddled his plummeting assailant with bullets. Now that he got a chance to really scope out the gunslinger's equipment, it appeared that he had two guns in the form of a punchy-looking hand cannon and a sniper rifle. While any prospective opponent would have to be a total clod to fall victim to the impractical, long-range weapon in such a small arena, the oversized pistol commanded enough stopping power to speedily put unwary warriors down for the count. However, reliance on two precision weapons meant that Slayer possessed a distinct advantage. Short though it was, his near-instant teleport gave no indication of its destination, and James couldn't afford to inundate the area with bullets in the manner that one with an automatic or spread weapon might. Plus, nobody knew about the teleport yet. Keeping his hand hidden for the longest possible time suited Slayer, but he intended to win this fight however long it took, and he would not risk elimination for the sake of keeping secrets.

Somehow, the bullets that pierced Steve's body didn't seem to have much of an impact. From what Slayer knew, even if a shot didn't hit something important it tended to cause severe and sometimes fatal shock in anything less than a hardened veteran. This animate sculpture, however, laughed it off. A fitting conclusion as to why was the work of only a few seconds for an astute mind. ”No vital organs? ...Fascinating. The lack of any kind of hindrance to his performance from something typically deadly also indicates that his physical ability is actually not linked to the state of his body. He must be able to fight at full capacity until the moment he's taken enough damage to be put out of commission. I wonder if he can even be knocked out...? Without a doubt, a physiology specially tuned for survival.” As he spoke, Steve hurled a few more blocks his way, and they grew to full size to create a three meter tall, nine meter wide wall only inches away from his foot. A bored expression crossed Slayer's face. ”Now, now. Blocking my view is just petty.” He rose to his feet.

”Here, allow me to return your things.”

The vampire planted his foot against the stone wall and heaved. As if hit by a freight train, the stone wall hurtled forward with frightening suddenness, rolling end over end straight toward Steve and James. It didn't move at an unmanageable pace, but its size presented a definite problem. Before it even drew close, Slayer had already seated himself once again.

Oh, how familiar the feeling was to Fox; to once more be in the competitive spotlight (literally, in this case). That, and the name, was about all that this setting and scenario had in common with Smash tradition. Much more in line with other notable fighting tournaments, contestants were placed in tag teams on a conventional stage. Functionally, it wasn’t much unlike the Boxing Ring he had fought in a couple of times before, only this… establishment, if it could properly be called that, was more cramped, demonstrably less respectable and well-kept, and the attracted crowd less savory. Then again, what more could be expected of an underground, and presumably illegal, operation ran under a more reputable name? None of that mattered, though. If there was a fight to be had worth winning, it was a sure bet that Fox would eagerly cast his name into the mix.

He was inwardly grateful to have been partnered with Luigi. The two had fought with and against each other in the past more times than was necessary to know what the other was capable of, and of all the fighters Fox has come to know from Smash, there were few others he had more faith in than Luigi. He was glad to have someone he could trust to have his back. More curious was he about his opponent who he watched patiently with arms crossed from his corner of the ring as the hulking man put on a show. Well… not so much a man as a herculean titan that stood like one, his standard, plain attire struggled in futility to remain intact, but this presumably had more to do with producing the desired result of destroying it with a single full body contraction than anything else. Surely, he could have found something that fit him if he actually wanted to. No matter. It was admittedly entertaining nonetheless to watch him prove a point already visually evident: that he’s big and strong.

Expectedly, the stressed material practically disintegrated into confetti with the slightest ounce of applied tension. Fox tilted his head downward slightly with a faint smile and closed eyes, unfazed by the veritable giant’s display or comment about fashioning pants from his fur. What a waste that would be if he was serious about it; he wouldn’t be able to fit them either. Dismissing the amusing thought, Fox grabbed the collar of his jacket, slowly craning his arm around his head before deftly throwing the garment off. The overhead lighting silhouetted the skyward long coat as it drifted down to hang almost perfectly on the outer corner behind Luigi. This revealed his seldom seen, surprisingly toned, well-built figure that was so often hidden beneath an outer layer of clothing. Even with fur, it would be difficult not to notice that he had the shape befitting of a seasoned, upkept fighter. It wasn’t something he could brag about or show off like his opponent had, but he wasn’t exactly looking to either. Besides, he never was one for pre-fight showboating or trash talk; he prefered simply to let his skill speak for itself.

Fox paced forward three steps to take his position and slowly shifted into a stance vaguely resemblant of xu bu. He held his open right palm and left leg out with his hips facing forward and left hand at his side, and with bent knee, he kept the greater half of his weight on his back leg. Anyone who’s watched him fight before would recognize this, but those with an eye for it would observe that not a single muscle on him was tense, much unlike his opponent. He was completely calm, relaxed, and focused. In the brief moment before the final announcement, he shut his eyes once more to further still his mind and reopened them just in time to train them back on his opponent. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation for the match to officially start.



Barely a fraction of a second was able to pass between Steve sounding them off and Fox making his first move. In what seemed like an instant, Fox would close in with his Illusion technique, pivot mid-motion to deliver a left inside kick to Zangief’s right knee, and, with the forceful pirouette carrying him forward slightly into the air at an angle, meet the flat of his right foot hard against the back of the Russian’s head. Should these hits connect successfully, the wrestler - AND the spectators - would perceive them to have done so in near unison. Without sparing a measureable second to let him process that, Fox would swiftly follow through by fiercely torquing his body to the left to drive the other side of the same foot into Zangief’s right temple. Ideally, this would send him into the adjacent corner of the ring. Whether the man flew, tumbled, or stumbled his way there made little difference so long as it clearly registered that Fox could physically affect him. He figured if he could crack his opponent’s confidence where it mattered as early on as possible, it would hopefully serve him well later in the match. He landed facing his foe halfway and assumed his default stance, readying himself for whatever came next.

As the wooden sword came towards James' head, the Nightstalker spun below the intended path of the feint and, subsequently, if unintentionally, avoiding the kick as well. Coming back to a ready position, the knife held in a reverse position, he spotted the pillar of sliding stone coming towards him the same as he heard it and quickly dove away from his opponents to avoid being crushed by the weight of it. As it was, he was still trying to figure out what kind of world or planet or universe existed that a guy could take a bullet to the chest and still keep walking, jumping, and attacking like he'd never been shot at all. Summoning a voidwall grenade, the Guardian tosses into the area between Steve and Slayer, the horizontal wall of purple Void Flames exploding into existence and speeding towards both of them.

Character: Steve
Level: 1
Location: Smash Arena
Tag: @Lugubrious@Zarkun

Steve frowned at the fact he missed Jack. He had thought his attacks were positioned perfectly. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, as he saw Jack retreat. He saw the blocks he'd tossed around Slayer flying towards him. He dodged, though just barely and stood, only to be hit by the wall of flames. Now ignited, he began running around wildly, almost hitting Jack and continuing to run towards Slayer. The flames went out after a bit, though, and he ran to the edge of the ring, checking his injuries. "If I'm gonna lose, I might as well try this." Running back to his previous tower, he built stairs to climb up to it, before beginning to create a ceiling above them. Out of their reach, he proceeded to pull out a crafting table and begin building a pair of stone swords. "This should help," he said before pulling out his pickaxes, making an O in the ceiling around one of the blocks, using what force he could to kick the block towards Slayer.

Large and problematic as it was, the rolling stone failed to score a hit on either Steve or James, but Slayer remained nonplussed by the lackluster results of his pillar-kick. The effort, less of an attempt to end the fight and more of a show that he ought not be trifled with, accomplished what it was meant to. With arms crossed, he kept a close eye on what came next. The Nightstalker hurled a grenade at the floor, too far to threaten the vampire with its initial explosion. After it burst, however, a wave of purple fire not unlike those that surrounded Slayer's own attacks washed toward him. ”Hmm.” Idly, as the burning wall surged his way, he weighed the options of dodging or blocking. Given his current status in this world, one stood out as the obvious choice, and when the burning tide approached Slayer stood up from his chair and brought his cape in front of him to block. Some heat bled through the hardened raiment, singing the gentleman's fine clothes and sending up wisps of smoke, but most of the damage was mitigated. As he flourished his cape aside, he sent a somewhat condescending smile James' way. ”Catch-all solutions may not help you in this case. If you'd like to take me on, I would prefer your full attention. Anything less is practically an insult.”

Burning alive, Steve sprinted his way. Narrowing his brow, Slayer felt that any sane person's first impulse would be to extinguish himself or herself by rolling along the ground, instead of trying to spread the blaze to others. Even that didn't come to pass, in the end; the blocky man swerved away to head to the side of the ring. Rather than alight, his actions left the gentleman severely bemused. He followed up by heading to his previous construction, making stairs up to it, and beginning a new project. Turning his head to the side as though looking for the answers elsewhere, Slayer could only declare, ”...What a ludicrous display.” While he watched Steve worked on some kind of ridiculously elaborate attack or trap that ended with another block falling toward him. To be sure, a three meter by three meter slab of stone was a formidable projectile, but by now the angular fellow should have known better. Slayer's eyebrow twitched. ”...Could it be that I'm not being taken seriously? I would have been happy to sit by the sidelines, but even my patience wears thin at times.” In a flash, he threw his leg upward in a brazen high kick. He barely leaned his torso back as he did, demonstrating incredible -almost unnatural- flexibility. The sole of his foot slammed into the block of stone, shattering it into chunks that fell all around him like rain. A thin layer of dust fell across his hair, collar, and shoulders, which he flicked at for a moment after returning his leg to its proper position.

Slayer's smile persisted as he clenched his pipe between his teeth and remarked, ”Enough playing games, then,” though his tone of voice sounded anything but serious. Given his current position, he was in just the right spot to turn to his left with a hook punch and blow an entire side out of the load-bearing cobblestone block that kept Steve's entire operation standing. The next instant, he lashed out with his right leg and destroyed the pillar's remainder, causing the whole thing to tilt wildly in preparation for falling down.

Shantae stretched a bit as she stood outside of the arena. She had looked around the area, and while it seemed as though it would be the perfect place for Risky Boots to show up, she was nowhere to be found. Shantae found herself partnered with a guy in blue, and now she was going to go up first. She looked to the boy with brown hair, and she had introduced herself before letting him know quietly so hopefully the other competitors couldn't hear, "Listen, if one of these guys starts trying to cut my hair, I'll tag you in. Sound good?" She then leaped over the ropes with ease and stood in the arena.

She studied her opponent and found that he was wielding a sword. That wasn't an issue. She faced many enemies (especially pirates) who had swords before. She glanced behind him to see....what was that? Some kind of monster? She had never seen anything like it. What kind of creature could function without a neck, arms, or legs? And the hair was a disaster! She looked back to the opponent in front of her and she smiled at him before telling him cordially, "Good luck to you. I'm looking forward to this fight. Don't hold back!" There was no malice or mockery. It was just simple good sportsmanship. She was silent as the crowd started to become wild and the voice of the host shouted...



Shantae didn't waste any time. She acted fast (and her lightweight clothing hopefully helped with her speed), and she quickly whipped her hair, aiming the magical locks at Isaac's hand or wrist that held the sword. She had hoped to disarm Isaac right from the get-go, if her strike was to land successfully. She then decided to move about the arena and keep moving (staying inside the boundaries of course), just in case Isaac either kept his sword or had another weapon ready to be used against her. She tried to think of this as just another belly dancing session, in order to lessen the slight anxiety.

Zangief’s eyes widened when the fox suddenly disappeared into a blur. It hadn’t been the first time Zangief had scrapped with such an agile opponent. Most of his opponents were agile.

The fox kicked his knee, causing the giant’s leg to bend, dropping his right knee to the solid stage.

But…

The creature followed the kick up with another to the back of his head, causing the wrestler’s head to tip forward a little.

Fast didn’t always mean strong, and strength was collected on the Russian’s massive body like stones on a mountain. His counter had been just as swift, and more than likely catching the fox off-guard. The fox had been greedy in his offense, and Zangief had many moves in his repertoire that punished overzealous fighters. The assault was instantaneous. If one were to slow down time, they would have seen the Russian pivot to the left on his grounded knee. Zangief’s head turned with his body, Fox’s foot inches from making contact with his right temple but not quite reaching the mark. The wrestler pushed off his left foot, using the strength to stand as he continued to turn in the same counter-clockwise direction he was already pivoting in. The hand that whipped around like a fly swatter was enormous and bathed in blue flaming ki (Banishing Flat). Zangief violently slapped the fox out of the air, his body momentarily pausing to allow his momentum to halt before he rocked forward to lunge after the fox.

Zangief roared with excitement, his teeth clenching into a wicked grin as he swung his right arm in a downward motion. The strength of the swing caused his body to turn mid-lunge. Spreading his tree-trunk arms, the wrestler oddly continued to turn, and he turned faster and faster and faster. His turning created a sucking current much like a cyclone (Cyclone Lariat) that would pull the opponent into what could only be a twister of serious pain if they weren’t careful.

System Results
Fox Lv. 4 – 35/40 HP
Attacks:
First: Hit, Second: Hit, Third: Miss

Zangief Lv. 4 – 33/40 HP
Attacks:
First: Hit



The blonde swordsman frowned across the stage at Mitsurugi in concentration. Instead of rushing at each other like unskilled warriors, the two studied each other. Cloud lowered his buster sword, bringing the blade diagonally to his left, the edge inches from dragging along the floor. He walked in a wide counter-clockwise circle, while Mitsurugi also walked in a counter-clockwise circle, clutching the obi of his katana while his face bore a cocky smile. Cloud could tell right away that the samurai wasn’t just some rookie with his blade. They were both looking for an opening. While Cloud attempted to bait him by appearing wide-open, Mitsurugi hadn’t quite taken to it. At that moment, Cloud was regretting having demonstrated to the swordsman how fast he really was with his giant sword. If he had left his strength a mystery, then the match might had started in his favor.

Mitsurugi then rushed toward Cloud, turning his katana toward his right before he lashed out in a horizontal swipe. The ex-SOLDIER stepped back to avoid the blade swing, feeling it cut across the purple material of his old uniform. As Mitsurugi’s blade sliced the air beneath Cloud’s ribs, Cloud’s massive sword swung overtop of the katana, and the resounding bang! of skull meeting steel made a few of the audience members wince. Mitsurugi’s eyes shrank as his head snapped to the side from Cloud striking him with the non-lethal edge of his sword. The samurai tipped over and seemed to vanish under the sword until it passed. Mitsurugi emerged just after the buster sword had passed overhead and greeted Cloud with a vertical slice from his blade. The sword cut from the ex-SOLDIER’s hip, up his ribs to his shoulder. His katana had been like a painter’s brush, rising with a red, glistening ribbon of blood. Cloud’s greenish-blue eyes were glimmering beneath a shocked frown.

Mitsurugi followed his slash up with a kick from his wooden sandaled foot, striking Cloud where his sword had just cleaved. The ex-SOLDIER flew back, his one hand still stubbornly grabbing his sword. He thrust his arm back to stop himself from sliding into the ropes and released his sword to leave it lying at his feet. Mitsurugi was already leaned over and swiftly sprinting toward him.

Cloud bore his teeth—mostly in pain—as his blonde hair started to rise. An eldritch gust pulsed about his booted feet before chains of electricity started arcing about his legs. Thrusting his gloved hands in Mitsurugi’s direction, the samurai’s advance was halted by a lance of lightning firing down from the ceiling. The bolt passed through Mitsurugi, causing his body to flicker as he cried out in pain:

“Aargh!”

The samurai staggered over to settle upon one knee. Smoke rose off his body as the smell of burnt flesh and hair wafted in Cloud’s direction. Mitsurugi was slumped momentarily, arms dangling weakly. Raising his shoulders, the samurai rose back to his feet and through the black blades of his hair, he grinned arrogantly.

“Is that your best shot?” he taunted.

The scowl never seemed to leave Cloud’s face. He had seen what he wanted to see. His physical attacks didn’t seem to affect the warrior as much as his magic, and he wasn’t about to dance around the arena throwing bolts all over the place. He didn’t have to inspect his wound to know that the samurai’s blade cut deep. Cloud reached down to pick up his buster sword as Mitsurugi’s grin widened eagerly. The ex-SOLDIER walked backwards toward the ropes, earning himself a confused look from the samurai.

Without a word, Cloud held his hand out for Naija to tag it.

System Results
Cloud Lv. 1 – 6/10 HP
Attacks:
First: Hit (No Effect), Second: Miss, Third: Hit

Mitsurugi Lv. 1 – 8/10 HP
Attacks:
First: Miss, Second: Hit, Third: Hit





Jack unloaded three shots at the cyborg as the yellow bot charged toward him. The initial round had missed but the second and third round caused the borg’s knee to spark and leg collapse just as a slot in his chest had opened to send a hot green plasma net flying like a web toward Jack. The cyborg hissed, but he didn’t let the stumble discourage him as he pushed off the ground to allow his robotic speed to restore his advance. If Jack dodged the net, the borg would be on him, pushing off his left foot to bring his right leg swinging around with enough strength to lift himself. The kick was aimed to collide with Jack’s hand, which clutched pistol, if he wasn’t still clutching it with both hands.

System Results
Jack Lv. 1 – 9/10 HP
Attacks:
First: Miss, Second: Hit, Third: Hit

Cyrax Lv. 1 – 8/10 HP
Attacks:
First: Miss, Second: Hit






Isaac’s grip increased on the hilt of his sword as he sank a little in his stance. The purple-haired girl rushed right at him, and with the whip of her head, her hair lashed out to crack against the hand he had about the hilt of his sword. The sharp pain had managed to cut through the leather of his glove. The swordsman’s hand spasmed as he released the sword and quickly stepped away from her. He didn’t run or jog. His walk was swift and almost on the balls of his feet as though he were controlling his movements. Isaac had been lucky to had not even drawn his sword from its sheath. Otherwise, he was certain the girl would have disarmed him from the beginning with her surprise assault.

The warrior instead studied her for a few seconds. She didn’t seem to have any other weapons on her person and she seemed more of a dancer than a fighter. Isaac frowned behind his scarf. Opening and closing his hand to get the feeling back in it, his hand went for his sword again and this time he drew it from its sheath.

Somebody needs a haircut, Isaac mused as he quick-stepped toward Shantae. He brought his sword arm across his chest and swiped out at her in a diagonal motion. The blade had cut chest level, and it hadn’t been as lethal. Isaac had actually been testing her with every intention of exploiting any other tricks she might have.

System Results
Shantae Lv. 1 – 10 HP
Attacks:
First: Hit

Isaac Lv. 1 – 8 HP
Attacks:
None

Naija had never been to something like this before, or really ever competed in an kind of sport before. Well apart from that one time with the ghosts in the seahorse race but that really was more of a time trial situation.There was definitely no roaring crowd at that event, and s he was getting performance anxiety with all these people here to watch them fight. But she was doing her best to ignore that as this was the best way to vent all that built up aggression she had stewing in since she got energy from back.

Unfortunately she was having to hold back as a result of how the contests were set up. As a result of the tag team system she had been sitting on the sidelines, or more specifically hanging off of the side of the arena, watching her partner cloud go blade to blade with a man who didn’t know what a shirt was. She had to admit, it was quite the show, watching the two swordsmen in their duel. Heck it was interesting just to see swords in general, they were not the kind of weapon you would ever find underwater as there too much drag to really make swinging something in a fight a good idea. The view was also quite nice too, but she was still looking forwards to getting stuck in and making a mess of it.

Then after Cloud unleashed a burst of electricity her turn came. Naija pressed her small hand into Clouds to tag herself in and him out. She had been holding in a charge of energy since the fight began for this moment and now she would get to use it. She released Clouds hand, dropped to the floor and then, with her small but powerful legs, launched herself into the air over the rope of the arena. At the highest point of her jump she tucked her arms and legs close to her body, doing a front flip and in doing so wrapped the stored energy around herself. She finished the flip, her legs once again directed the the floor and then flung her arms out wide, energy bursting in a circle around her as 6 large lances of energy radiated out of her. The entire thing frames her entrance dramatically as she then super hero landed in the arena.

”Hi there” She says far to cheerfully to her foe.

The 6 projectiles turn menacingly in the air towards the samurai, 6 burning spears of energy that race towards their creator’s enemy, 6 bolts of raw aggression incarnate that would not stop trying to turn to strike Mitsurugi till they are destroyed.

She then leaps to the left, her hands igniting as she uses them to hurl two smaller shots in quick succession at him while she is airborne. After landing she does this again, hurling two more shots and then arriving about a quarter of the way around the arena from where she started and still a fair distance from the swordsman's range. There she pauses, turning to face her foe with her legs tensed and ready to leap to the side to dodge the Samurais charge.

On her face is a grin with too many points in it, the smile of someone who is enjoying the prospect of violence and victory.

Lawman LV.1

---

“Shit!”

Jack threw himself to his left as soon as he saw part of the cyborg’s chest snap open. The hair on his arms and neck stood on end as he rolled, a glowing neon green net missing him by a single arm’s reach. Using the momentum from his roll Jack threw himself back to his feet just as the net collided with the adjacent wall. It’s impact let out sharp crackles of foreign energy that made it clear he was luck not to have been hit by it.

“Are you a fishermen or a fight-”

Jack turned to face his enemy only to find the cyborg had closed distance with him. The cyborg’s leg cut through the air towards him like the blade of a fan, aimed at striking his gun hand. With no time to dodge Jack twisted his arm to guard and took the flat of the cyborg’s foot to his right elbow.

There was an audible striking of metal on flesh as Jack was sent spinning backwards from the blow. Radiating splinters of pain and forceful vibrations shot up through his elbow and into his very bones like he’d been grazed by a speeding car. If the blow had hit his hand Jack wasn't sure if he'd have a gun or working trigger fingers.

Falling out of his spin and into a stumble, Jack grit his teeth and bit back both his pain and pride as he reached the edge of the arena.

“I softened Mr. Dreadlocks for you orange boy, make the asshole hurt!”

Jack slapped Samus’ hand before crossing stepping onto the sideline, gripping the visibly bruised elbow of his right arm. His dog meanwhile remained briefly in the arena, baring it's teeth at the cyborg.

“Grrrrrrrag” Shadow snarled seemingly unwilling to leave until Jack put his fingers between his lips and whistled. Relenting the dog quickly bounded off to the sidelines and joined his master.

Samus continues watching from behind the ring as her partner battles this heavy-duty cyborg. Despite her partner's minor success at damaging Cyrax, it became clear that he was at a disadvantage against him. The yellow cyborg has more outfitted armor and is stronger than the regular human. It became clear that he'll be ripped to ribbons if he keep on fighting him at this rate. Not even his dog can help at this point.

Thankfully, Jack came to her and slapped his hand, signifying that it's her (or in his case, "his") time to get into the ring, having softened him up for her. With that, the bounty hunter leaps over the string bars as she lands on the arena platform, loading her arm cannon as she glares at her opponent through her visor.

"Alright big guy." Samus barks at him, her voice distorted through the mask, "Here comes the real fight."

Right off the bat, she fires two homing rocket projectiles towards the yellow cyborg. Whether both, one, or none hit Cyrax, Samus follows up by making a quick dash towards him, attempting to daze him by issuing a side-punch to his head.

James observed the flaming block man sprint his way and prepared to commit to his own avoidance, ignoring Slayer's jab. The Cruicible didn't allow for a one on one confrontation often if ever, you usually had at least one other Guardian providing some form of cover fire if not running up behind you to strike you in the back with their melee attack. In the end, There was no need to worry about Steve as he redirected his momentum to his creation. He built the stairs and ascended, only to have the gentleman destroy the pillar as he fell unconscious, leaving nothing but an unconscious blockman and rubble laying around. However, the dust provided the Nightstalker a prime opportunity to initiate an ambush of sorts, so he took it.

Double jumping over where he last saw Slayer, he drops a second grenade on the position, landing in a roll and pulling his Hand Cannon free of it's holster as he came to his feet and spinning to face where the grenade had gone off before fan firing the Imago Loop in a wide cone in front of him. Popping the now empty cylinder out of the mounted cylinder, he loads fresh ammo into it and flips it shut, pulling his knife free and placing the hand cannon wielding wrist on top of the knife holding one. Close combat with a knife was where Hunters shone brightest and he wasn't about to disappoint.

Robbed of its support, the slapdash construction project fell to pieces, and with it to the earth plummeted its creator. One rough landing amid the broken, jagged chunks of stone later, Steve appeared down for the count. Perhaps, Slayer guessed, his adrenaline ran dry, allowing the pain from his earlier wounds to catch up. Regardless I am happy enough to have this clown out of my way. With the polygonal builder out of the running, that just left...

The sound of a gout of flame came from behind Slayer, and with a slight start he realized that he'd been so occupied with eliminating Steve that he'd forgotten about the other, more tactically-minded competitor. On one hand, it had been foolish for the vampire to assume that James might stand by until Slayer was ready for a one-on-one, but on the other it would have been easier for him to shoot from a safe distance into the back of his head rather than whatever he was doing now. Speaking of, the futuristic soldier had gotten the jump on the gentleman, and before he really got a grip of his next opponent's course of action a second grenade was falling down on him from above. Eyes narrowed, Slayer stared upward, and his thoughts went into overdrive. For a split second Slayer was grateful that the arena was packed dirt rather than sand or gravel, which would have been kicked up by the tower's destruction and prevented him from understanding what was going on. With that mental note out of the way, he got down to business. Judging by the color, this grenade was another of the same type James used earlier, which meant it erupted into a wall of purple flames on contact. On second thought, it must detonate on impact, otherwise merely touching it would set it off, making its use inconvenient. Slayer started to move, grabbing the edge of his cape and flinging it upward. Its surface straightened, soft but with a definite shape, in order to catch the grenade without triggering it.

The mantle and the bomb made contact. The latter exploded anyway.

Purple flames washed over Slayer, turning his face into a stolid mask of repressed pain. His clothes, hair, and cape caught fire, and he mumbled. “Ah, well. Can't be right...all the time.” The burning did not prevent him from noticing that James had yet to finish, however. After rolling out of his jetpack-assisted jump, the soldier turned with his Hand Cannon extended and opened fire without too much attention to accuracy. Slayer threw himself to the ground, rolling to put out most of the fire, and pushed up some of the stony wreckage of Steve's building to use as a shield Wryly, the gentleman wondered how much it would cost to get his suit repaired, or to tailor a new one. Twelve shots, he thought next. Is that all he's got? He popped up from behind cover to see if James was reloading, but he was too late, and only found him at the ready with pistol and dagger prepared. Without hesitating, Slayer speedwalked forward, easily pushing the makeshift barrier as he did, then disappeared into a black silhouette. He reappeared just a few feet in front of James, baiting an attack, then executed a Dandy Step at the last moment. After the dash backward, he shot forward again, coming in low with a flame-wreathed Pile Bunker punch upward toward James' jaw.