banjoanjo

Strange Gospel: An Urban Fantasy RP

Real life's been keeping me occupied.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Ernest Mars

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟙 / / ~𝟙𝟠𝟛𝟘

---

He'd woken up groggy and irritated and in pants that weren't his. Huh.

Ernie groaned quietly, rolling in the temporary cot. He remembered feeling... damp, the stagnant water lapping at his face and ruining his clothes. Totally gross. Was that stuff even filtered properly? That kind of shit was exactly what caused moldy surfaces. He remembered being unable to move, unable to let out anything but a small moan as his nerves worked to regain their senses. All he could do was watch. Really ugly walls. The walls of the house. Weird decor. He hadn't noticed that when they were running to the safe point.

The paramedics had put him on a stretcher. His remaining teammates were... naked? What even happened there? There was a short, blond boy. He'd unwrapped his hand and a mist flew out, making the part on Ernie's leg where he'd gotten tazed feel a lot nicer. Then all of them had been taken inside. Which was where he was now.

Ernie sat up quickly and immediately felt dizziness rush to his head. Ugh, go slower. He was back in the observation room with Team 3 and 4, with everyone clothed thankfully. Ernie himself was wearing a blue pyjama suit. Snazzy. Comfortable. But not his. He didn't like wearing this outfit. His clothes were in a folded pile by his cot, the arrangement too sloppy for his standards. A lotta stuff to take in. But there were other things in the room that required his attention. Namely, the screens displaying every angle of the fight.

There was so much more chaos than what he'd actually seen. Team 3 had been an absolute mess fighting Gregory on the top floor, while Team 4 had been scrambling like idiots trying to get to the roof. Thank god Brent had taken so long to climb. If they'd engaged Team 3 any sooner, they probably would've gotten much worse than a building falling under their feet. Which brought another important point to his attention.

He'd gotten the wrong girl. The one with the bangs, Hazel, was more of a monster than he'd known. More than anyone on his team had expected, probably. It was more than just telekinesis. It was outright erasure. Ernie shuddered, suddenly thankful that he had been too busy snoring on that murky, flooded floor to go up against that beast. However, that meant that he'd impaled someone's face for no reason. He swore it seemed like a good idea at the time. It felt good, that's for sure.

"Allison!" he called flatly to the girl and, with a limp point of his index finger, indicated at his own face, "Sorry about your eye. I got the wrong person."

If he sounded insincere, it was because he was. It was just common courtesy, nothing he actually wanted to put effort into. He was too preoccupied with watching the game to generate any sort of sympathy for the girl he'd horrifically injured. It was incredible how lucky he was to avoid having to fight the majority of the other team. The reminder that he'd missed his chance to skip classes for a week didn't even cross his mind. In all honesty, he was just glad that he made it through relatively uninjured.

Ernie rose to his feet to sit at a proper chair and continue watching, less for the fight itself and more for the personalities. He'd probably avoid most of the other team after this. These East kids were freaking mental.

@VarionusNW

Strange Gospel: An Urban Fantasy RP Interest Check and Signups

Interested.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Allison Revel | Lawrence Ellison

Emma Halwell | Ernest Mars | Savannah Churchill

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𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠 / / 𝟙𝟠𝟘𝟜

---

_{Collab with @VarionusNW @Snagglepuss89 @Diggerton @banjoanjo @canaryrose}

---

Allison looked down at the first floor. It was an ungodly mess, likely the result of Gregory's actions, if their encounter with him was anything to go by. The floor seemed to be flooding with water, just as the bathroom from the floor Allison was currently on. Other than the water, the room was in general disarray, meaning that fighting would be difficult if it ever came to it, but movement would only be slightly more inconvenient. The main issue for the girl was that she was heading towards the wreckage of part of a building, glass and rubble guaranteed to be everywhere, and she didn't have shoes, thanks to Hazel's power.

After only a few moments of staring, Allison heard the sound of a heavy impact, and the familiar beep and zap of the cuff taking out someone who used lethal force. The girl's head snapped around immediately, to find the crumpled forms of Hazel and Brent lying on the ground. From what Allison could discern, Brent had slammed some part of a machete into the back of Hazel's head, though luckily there seemed to be no wound, so he hadn't outright killed the girl.

Allison rushed over to the two forms, though there was little she could do. She did, though, eye Brent's equipment, and specifically, his shoes. He was unconscious, and his feet didn't seem to be that much bigger than Allison's, so of course she took some liking to the idea of taking the boy's shoes. Though, it did seem like a pretty awful thing to do, just taking someone's shoes whilst they lay unconscious.

After a moment of debating with herself, Allison reached at the Brent's shoes, and pulled them off of his feet.

"Sorry, Brent." She said softly as she tied the shoes on. It was odd, wearing someone else's shoes, it felt wrong and awkward, especially to some part of her deep in the back of her head. The shoes seemed to be only slightly too large for Allison, and were comfortable enough that she didn't completely regret the decision.

After the shoes, Allison looked around at the rest of the boy's gear, tempted by the machete, and even Brent's gun, but ultimately decided to leave those where they lay. Allison had little use for them. Instead, she ripped off each of her opponent's flags, turning to Lawrence as she did so.

"We'll need to carry Greg down by ourselves. They're probably still by the bathroom." Allison's words were quick and dull.

Lawrence, for his part, was kneeling next to her, checking Hazel's pulse on the ground. He had no doubt that Brent and Zoe were fine after their shocks- USARILN East had a lot of practice making sure their methods weren't lethal. Overall, this clusterfuck of a team game had gone south incredibly quickly. Had the staff scheduled it too soon after their first combat mission? Whether by stress or misfortune, this was quickly turning into a bad idea.

Still, unless Brent's blow was fatal, Hazel would probably wake up in a few minutes. It wasn't the first person Lawrence had seen knocked out- and thankfully it looked like for the moment she wasn't going to join the list of people he'd seen killed as well. As far as Allison looting the other team while he did this- he didn't really have an opinion. In fact, he took a minute to strip the boy of his pants- the only real piece of clothing worth taking- while Allison spoke to him.

Finally, he grabbed the boy's weapons that his teammate had neglected before answering her:

"If she's not dying, Hazel should be with us again in a few minutes. If she is dying, they'll probably stop the game in order to treat her. We have an injured healer, one we don't know the location of, and as far as we know we're outnumbered three-to-two right now. If we go down there and get jumped we're going to have our hands tied by carrying that dead weight on top of being outnumbered."

Finally, moving to check on Gregory, he added:

"We should defend here, guard the healer we already have, and buy time for Hazel to come to. Do you think your power can destroy Emma's things when she comes at us with them?"

"Probably." Allison said, halfheartedly. "And if Hazel doesn't wake up in time?"

"Then she doesn't wake up."

He said simply, before looking at Brent's gun and shrugging.

"Look, if I could use lethal force- not that I want to- there's plenty of options for wiping out the other team with just you and me. We have to look at this realistically though- we have you and me. That's it. If we lose this game- missions get bungled. Right now our mission is bungled, and the priority is salvaging as much as we can."

With an added sigh he ran a hand through his hair and continued:

"The main lesson here is teamwork. If we were in the field right now we have no idea if our healer is still alive, but we do know Hazel is. Our focus at this point should be staying alive, and keeping her alive- while guarding the objective we managed to capture. If we can't apply this game to a real world mission then... there's no goddamn point to it."

"Alright then." Allison got up from her place next to Lawrence and the unconscious pair, and moved closer to the edge of the floor. She stood idly, watching for any signs of the other team.

Hoping his message had gotten through to the girl Lawrence made his way over to their overly violent captive, pants in hand. At least this way if he did manage to wake up and try to fight back again like an idiot later on in the match he'd be robbed of both his legs and arms.

”...ou there?”

What?

A short investigation revealed something him and Allison had missed a minute ago- Brent's phone- shoved into the pocket of his pants. Shoved into the pocket of his pants and broadcasting the other team's chatter. With the first bit of good fortune since this match started- Lawrence set it next to the body of their captured healer. Then, making sure to broadcast as little noise as possible to the other team- began preparing to tie up their prisoner.

Listening all the while.

-----------------

MEANWHILE:

Ernie's foot shot out and dislodged the last piece of wood needed to create a small entrance. Far too long. With people like Team 3 on the loose above them, he couldn't afford to lose his shit like that again. He needed efficiency. With exhausted breaths, Ernie pulled himself through and crab-walked his way under the table.

"Stay close," he instructed Savannah quietly, "If we get split up now, we're screwed."

His boots tread carefully across the half-flooded floor. Thank god he got his footwear back. Going shoeless through a battlefield was bad enough but doing it through all this would have short-circuited him. The floor itself looked like it'd be bitch to search. Already, it seemed like a mini-maze. Ernie didn't like the number of corners he would have to turn. Too many potential traps lying in wait. He tugged the table to the side to clear their possible exit route, but also to make the most of their current resources.

"Sav," he pointed to the small room that was closest to the way they entered, "Could you check that for me? And maybe the kitchen too."

While the girl searched, Ernie hacked at the table's legs. If Team 3 wasn't pulling their punches, then his own team needed everything they could get. It only took one or two chops for the legs to detach, much faster than the door. One for Savannah, one for him, and one for Emma. Brent already had his own weapon. Plus, there wasn't really a way for Ernie to hand it to the Arbiter teammate. The table rested on its side now.

"Thwacking stick. For you." When the girl emerged from her initial search, she was greeted with a makeshift wooden weapon about two feet long. Ernie decided to give her the second one too. He wanted his hands to be as free as possible. "That one's for Emma, when we find her."

Savannah crawled into the house with more ease than Ernie had, due to her stature. The house was wrecked. Who had done this? One of the healers? She hadn't recalled Team 3 having gone to the first floor, so it must have been them. If she had to take a guess, it would have been Gregory. From what she recalled when they had met, Sophia was not the type of person to go around wrecking rooms. Or, at least, that's the impression Savannah had gotten from her. Sophia hadn't talked much.

Savannah mock-saluted at Ernie when he gave her the instructions. She ran off into the smaller room, checking it pretty thoroughly. Just like the other rooms, it was wrecked, but no one was there. She checked the kitchen as well, but that yielded no results. She came back to the hallway, and was about to say that she found nothing when Ernie gave her a stick.

You were actually serious about that?" she asked. "I didn't find anything."

"We need to be prepared," was the only explanation he gave. He gestured silently to indicate that they were going to make their way through the house, "Did you check the fridge and cupboards too?"

"I don't think she could hide in there." Savannah replied. Ernie merely nodded in return. They could always check on the way back.

Emma was finally ready to move. ”Okay, you can put me down now.” She said, glancing down at the Tulpa below her.

Unfortunately, Love took her order rather literally.

Instead of gently floating down she was dropped suddenly. She hit the ground hard, wind knocked out of her. ”Shit. So much for my sweet landing.” she groaned to herself. She got up, dusting herself off. She reached for her phone, thoughts on what Brent had said. Find Sophia, get her out. Seemed sensible, but first she was concerned with regrouping with Sav and Ernie. They wouldn’t fare well if they were caught without her. She went for her phone, ”Hey, Sav, you there?” she said. She hoped that the small girl was able to get down safely.

She wasn’t as concerned for Ernie’s safety.

"Yeah, I'm here. Did you end up falling off the roof too?" Savannah said lowly into the phone.

"Uhhhh, yeah... you alright?" Emma whispered back. Savannah was whispering, so it only felt appropriate to do the same. "And what about Ernie?" she added as an afterthought.

"I'm fine, just got a few nicks and scrapes from the glass. Ernie took the brunt of the fall, but he's fine."

Ernie took the brunt of the fall? Sweet. She commented to herself. "Alright, roger that. We should probably regroup so we can make a run for the healers. Where are you guys?"

"Ground floor. We're looking for Sophia. Near the back door."

Emma nodded to herself, "On my way, than." She responded, heading towards the building.

While Savannah was updating Emma, Ernie searched the floor. The area after the kitchen consisted of two wide rooms, nothing there that could hide a small girl besides a few stray chairs. He noted the destroyed stairs that would have prevented them from reaching the top floor had they taken a more conventional route. The bedroom was the only remaining place on the ground floor that was a possible hiding place. The closet yielded no results. Same for the adjacent bathroom. Then Ernie peeked under the bed to find Sophia's wide eyes staring back at him.

"There you are!" he whispered in relief, "We need to get you outta here."

He turned to Sav with an excited smile.

"Tell Emma we found her!"

Savannah obeyed Ernie's instructions, whispering into the phone, "Hey, Emma! We found her."

Emma was coming through the back door by the time Sav updated her. "Sweet, I'm right-" She peeked out of the kitchen towards the bedroom, "Here!" she gently called, giving a small wave as she saw the small group. She began adding up the points in her head... with no word from Brent she assumed that he had been snagged, and that would mean Team 4 was still in the lead, even with Sophia. So, to win they'd have to duke it out more? Not something she was exactly looking forward to, but there wasn't a whole lot of choice.

Ernie offered his hands to the quiet girl and pulled her out from beneath the bed. Sophia's front was completely soaked but at least she wasn't bitching dangerously loudly about her situation. Unlike another tiny girl he could mention. He beamed at Emma's arrival. So they still had a fighting chance against the monsters on the top floor.

"We gotta move fast!" Ernie hurried the two girls out of the bedroom. "Sav, give Emma the other stick."

Savannah waved back at Emma. "Heads up!" she said lowly, and once she had gotten Emma's attention she gently tossed one of the sticks to her. She then turned her attention to Ernie.

"What are we supposed to do?" she asked Ernie quietly.

"For now, just get Sophia back," he replied, trying to sound as confident as Brent did. Thinking was for other people like the Arbiter and Emma, people with powers that could actually accomplish things. He disliked this position he was in. Remembering a detail about Allison's power from the team talk in the observation room, Ernie also began dragging the houseplant they passed earlier by a handful of leaves.

Emma caught the stick with a slight fumble. She gave it a curious glance What the hell do the excpect me to do with this? she considered mirroring her question aloud, but decided that it was best to just accept it and keep moving. Emma gave a slight nod to Ernie at the mention of getting Sophia to the safe zone. They could worry about the other team later, something that Emma was perfectly fine with. "Yeah, let's get her to the safe zone." She said, gesturing for the others to follow, hurrying out the back door.

Lawrence, for his part, was in the middle of tying up their captured healer's hands just in case he decided to try and cause more problems before the match ended. On the ground next to his kneeling form was the phone he had fished out of Brent's pockets a few moments ago, still broadcasting the other team's chatter as the Arbiter worked silently. For the most part what they were saying was unimportant- although he suspected the game would have ended if Hazel's earlier attack ended up fatal for one or more of the other team- just confirmation that each of the team members that hadn't been shocked into submission was fine. Annoyingly though it did confirm that Lawrence and Allison were both outnumbered and outgunned. Figuratively of course, in the case of the latter.

"Hey, Emma! We found her."

Shit.

While he didn't expect it, Lawrence still had hoped that the other team wouldn't be able to locate Sophia before the time limit expired. Just like on a real battlefield though- shit went wrong if there was any chance at all that it could. Fantastic. With a final, frustrated pull he tightened the pants around the arms and hands of his captive before standing up and leaving the phone where it lay. It had served its purpose. With a quick pause to check Hazel's state once more he then made his way over to where Allison had taken up her watch, scratching the back of his head before explaining:

"Well, other team has Sophia, I'd say we lose this one."

If the other team had Sophia, they needed to be stopped before they got to their point. Unlike Lawrence, Allison wasn't willing to admit defeat. Sure, she wanted the battle to be over, but she couldn't allow all of the suffering to be in vain.

Allison quickly lowered herself down to the first floor. If the other team had found Sophia, they were likely still in the building. From her vantage point, Allison could see one exit with quick access to the other team's point. If they were going to head anywhere, it would hopefully be that door. Luckily, Allison seemed to be right, the sounds of footsteps were approaching below her spot at the edge of the first floor. As they approached, Allison jumped down behind them, onto a couch at the bottom of what remained of the stairs. She summoned the shard to it's full length of 6 meters as she fell.

𝕲𝖗𝖎𝖒 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖕𝖊𝖗'𝖘 𝕲𝖆𝖒𝖇𝖎𝖙

@Shoryu Magami

My thoughts are pretty much identical to Snaggle's. Though the concept of this RP is very engaging, I don't think I'll be doing an RPing other than on this site. I'll be resigning if the RP moves too.

I'll be wishing you and the RP the best of luck in the future, whatever course you happen to take.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Oh, lookee. It's a third co-GM!

Everyone say hi to @RedDusk and pelt her with rotten oranges.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Ernest Mars

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟙 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟙𝟚

---

There were many things in that fight that he should have noticed. Angelique Lachance, Marcus being literally up shit creek without a paddle, Callan's strength, Siena's incredible versatility. Somewhere in the back of his mind he did notice. But that part was silent. Every part of him was absolutely speechless and afraid.

It wasn’t the blood or the bones that had frozen him. He knew what violence looked like, what it felt like to see a human being burst open like a dying star. No amount of graphic horrors would scare him ever again. The violence wasn’t what had scared him. It was the knowledge that it would happen to him within minutes.

He grabbed the fabric of his pants, bunching it as he clenched his fists. Let go. Then do it again. The same with his eyes. Scrunch them tight, then breathe.

These people were supposed to be friends, yet they were on the verge of tearing each other apart. What the hell would they do to him then? Most of them didn’t even know his name. He was just a random guy dropped into their class. They didn’t know anything about him. It was much easier to wreck something you had no attachment to, from Ernie's perspective anyway. And with what he’d heard from his teammates, Victorious Secret and their powers would be able to crush him like an ant.

Wait.

They didn’t know anything about him. Could he use that?

Ernie opened his eyes.

Yes. He could and he would.

He wouldn’t let them lay a goddamn finger on him. They’d be torn to shreds before he allowed any of them to cause him pain. Ernie began thinking, plotting ways to utilize the blank spots in the opposition’s knowledge, tactics that would prevent any harm from coming to him. His preoccupied train of thought resulted in a rather half-assed evaluation sheet.

General Thoughts:

The part with the pants was funny.
Everyone’s got very hardcore powers but they need to use them better.

Suggested Improvements:

They should stop pausing in the middle of fights to talk to each other. I think that only works in cartoons. Take opponents down more quickly so they don’t punch you in the nose.
More team manue maneou strategies would have been cool.
They should get some more practice with their powers too. The tentacle didn’t seem like a good idea.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Losers

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠 / / 𝟙𝟞𝟝𝟛

---

_{Collab with @Baklava @RedDusk @Deathmyster @January}

Grant wandered around the general location that Sander had pointed him to. Couldn't he have be more specific than just 'Outside'? It would've helped to say at least something more before he ran off. Now he was- Oh, there she was. Luckily, his eyes caught the figure of a person, down the alley. Siena. Well, have to deal with her. Grant started to step to the alleyway, down it, readying his chains... before something unexpected happened.

She just fell over. Out cold. She also seemed to drop a book. "She had more than one source, huh." Grant spoke out to no one in particular. At least it makes this easier. He walked up to the unconscious body of Siena, cautiously rolling her onto her back for easier access to her flags. First, he ripped her head and chest flags, and with the help of his chains, he ripped off both her wrist flags and her ankle flags. It was over.

Looking down on the unconscious Siena, he figured that it'd probably be rude to just leave her there. He glanced back at his chains, then down at her body. Might as well. He stepped up to her, kneeling down, bringing his chains down as well. They made contact with her shorts and her top that she had underneath her coat. Slowly, he had his chains lift her up from the ground before he saw the book on the ground as well. He picked it up and stood up with her body, that floated, though a bit loose within her clothes. He returned her book into one of the pockets that her coat had, before he slowly lowered her body into his arms. Slowly, he let his chains loosen on her clothes until it was only his own strength that was holding her. Which wasn't much, but surprisingly, he managed to hold her in his arms. His chains retracted behind him, out of sight, before he stepped out of the alleyway.

---

One. Two.

Breathe. Keep your lungs open.

One. Two.

Less pressure on your ankles.

Sander found himself fall into the familiar rhythm as he ran, his muscles remembered what his mind had forgot. He blinked, half-expected to see warm-coloured tracks expanded beneath his strides. But instead, there was just dull, grey concrete. A cold reminder of where he was. It took him a few seconds to realize he had crossed into the safe zone. It took several more for him to finally stop and put his roommate down. And it took yet another minute of mindless staring for Sander to finally notice his naked stage. He looked down at himself, blinking rapidly as the blood high left him and scrambled thoughts flooded back into his mind. The pants were gone. In Callan’s fight. Then his boxers and shirt were taken in the encounter with Siena. But why? He didn’t take them off. There was no reason to take them off.

Withdrawal soon set in though, prompting Sander to wrap his arms around himself. He turned his gaze up, glancing around the empty field, utter confusion lined his features.

Christmas coughed and looked away as Sander set him down, looking around the large plaza in amazement at the aftermath of what was supposed to have been a game. Nothing had changed much in the environment from when he had first arrived at the location, but the presence of an unconscious girl on the concrete some distance away and pieces of shattered cement near a moderate crater roughly around the plaza's center evidenced a superhuman struggle.

He was almost about to ask what had happened, but remembered that Sander was probably more concerned about clothes at the moment. With nothing spare to offer, Christmas kept his back turned and hoped the staff would eventually come to help.

"Uh...sorry," he added feebly without turning around, "don't have, um, extra pants."

Hands running up and down the length of his arms for warmth, Sander looked at Christmas, or more exact, his back, when the blond boy finally spoke up. The scent of coffee flared again, and Sander supressed his ability, eyes began to wander, as if not quite back to reality yet.

“I don’t—“- He began, looking at his bare legs one more time as if to confirm the status of his missing pants –“Yeah. It’s…fine.”

It was probably not fine, but Christmas wasn't exactly sure he could continue that particular conversation topic. Unfortunately, curiosity dropped a question before he could contain himself.

"...W-why are you naked?"

“I’m not quite sure.”- Sander spoke slowly, racking his mind for any relevant information. He remembered most things, despite the blood high, but he couldn’t really recall what he didn’t pay attention to. And during the fights, his priority was definitely not his clothes –“My clothes were…taken?”- He concluded in the end, though it felt more like a question.

"Oh..." What? At the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted to know all the details.

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔾𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 ℤ𝕖𝕣𝕠 / / 𝟙𝟞𝟝𝟛

---

The cuffs beeped loudly in one prolonged note.

"Aaaand, give it up for The Abusement Park with a resounding total of 64 points to Multiple Scorgasm's 45! They snagged every flag from the opponent and grabbed their healer all in a little more than six minutes--talk about overkill! I've got guards and paramedics on the way to patch people up temporarily, though we'll have everyone back to full health soon enough."

As Fredric spoke, the guards who had moved well away from the main site of engagement returned, their numbers bolstered by more in response to the game's events. Two pairs of soldiers carried a stretcher for Angélique and Siena with a small team of paramedics wielding medical supplies in tow. They cleaned and bandaged Angélique's wounds and loaded her onto the stretcher, heading back towards the security outpost. The group handling Siena calmly took her from Grant and checked for any serious injuries. Upon finding none other than the slowly forming bruise on her chin, proceeded in much the same way.

Several other soldiers and health professionals approached Callan and Marcus as they exited the sewers, one soldier bringing up the rear pulling a portable, propane-fueled water heater tank with an attached shower head nozzle.

One of the paramedics--a young girl who looked fresh out of college--shakily took Callan aside to clean the bite marks and disinfect the small scrapes she had received from her scuffle with Sander. An older man approached with a cold gel pack for the bruising on Callan's face while the younger girl continued wiping at the injuries and the bits of sewage that Callan had picked up climbing up the rungs behind Marcus.

On Marcus's end, the soldier with the outdoor shower system hosed him down thoroughly with hot water, washing away as much of the sewage as possible before another pair of paramedics sprayed every inch of the boy with skin-safe disinfectant. Another round of washing and spraying and a quick suggestion to shower again in the security outpost passed before they handed him several large towels and a change of clothes taken from his room.

Near Kusari, the four soldiers assigned to lead her were simply standing at a distance, rifles aimed at her while she reattached her limbs, in case she attempted an attack or an ill-advised escape. Four guards surrounded Christopher as well, tense and waiting on the order to leave.

Three other soldiers gave Grant the same treatment, though their slightly more relaxed faces implied they weren't expecting too much trouble on his end. Likewise, one calm soldier walked up to Lilianna as her escort, weapon ready, but not poised to fire.

The last group of soldiers approached Christmas and Sander with one paramedic, an older, stern-faced man who looked like he had seen more than his fair share of injuries throughout the years.

He checked over Christmas first, undoing the filthy bandage around the healer's right hand and beckoning over the soldier with the portable shower system to wash down the boy in the same way as Marcus before nodding towards Sander as well. The man barely raised an eyebrow at Sander's lack of clothing, though he muttered something like it was convenient for cleaning. As the guard rinsed Sander, the paramedic dried, disinfected, and wrapped Christmas's hand in a gauze pad and a new length of bandage, properly tucking the cotton around the thumb and securing it in place with medical tape.

Both were given several towels and a change of clothes after they were done with general cleaning and wound dressing, though Christmas simply tucked his new set of clothes under an elbow pressed against his side and clumsily threw one of the large towels around his shivering shoulders. He stepped away, tugging his ribbon out of his hair and wringing the water carefully from it. A quiet sigh passed when the stained, nicked length of cloth had returned to a state of "damp" and not "dripping wet," and Christmas tied the blue ribbon around his left wrist so he could quickly towel his hair dry.

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟚 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟙𝟚

---

When rough cleanup procedures had more or less completed, the guards ushered the students back towards the security outpost and into a large room that had been cleared of most desks and chairs, leaving only a control panel, two long desks covered in various bowls of popcorn, chips, cookies, and various other snacks and drinks scattered across the table, enough chairs lining the desks to accomodate the remaining students, and a wall of screens left in front of a looming Fredric.

He welcomed them in with a wide smile and a quick wave. On the screens behind him were replays of the match that had just occurred, with certain scenes looping frequently: Callan throwing Sander; Grant expertly flicking flags off Callan; the monochromatic green of the sewer cameras recording Sander smashing through a wall; Marcus executing an instantaneous series of actions on Kusari; Angel screaming a dragon off her; Siena teleporting around the sewers and a cut to Siena commanding Sander and Grant to remove their flags.

Angélique and Siena were already inside the room by the time the rest of them arrived, both girls lying on cots against the wall. While Fredric chuckled again at some of the antics on the replay, one of the guards grabbed Christmas and brought him forward.

The boy was still soaking wet for the most part, though his shirt had mostly dried in the walk back.

"Rosa tells me you might have a new trick up your sleeve," Fredric beamed at him. Christmas only looked back fearfully.

A small frown flickered across Fredric's expression before he pulled out a pocket knife, flicking it open and flipping it deftly in his hand so he was handing the grip towards Christmas.

"Sorry, kiddo. Orders from up top," he muttered apologetically.

Christmas stared at the knife, eyes wide and pleading for another solution, but he didn't direct the gaze beyond the grip of the knife. His hand trembled as he took the pocket knife with his good hand, eyes running over his right arm and looking for a place to cut. He wasn't sure if there even existed something like a "good" place to cut on the human body. And the longer he stood there and stared at his arm, the harder it became to convince himself to make the incision.

He didn't want to consider the consequences of failure if he took too long or if he couldn't do it at all, so Christmas sucked in a shaking breath and jammed the knife into the middle of his upper arm. He cried out in pain and would have fallen forward if the nearby guard hadn't grabbed him by the shoulder. The stab had hardly been strong, and the wound itself was miniscule, but it still really hurt.

At first, the blood oozed from the wound, sliding down his arm while he cried and whimpered. But as the first trails of red pooled at the fingertips of his limp hand and prepared to drip onto the floor, the air shimmered, a glass-like mist spooling into existence around him and expanding outward, pulling the blood away from the wound in a fine, red vapor that spread thinner as it moved away from him, until it was no longer visible in the white, glinting veil.

The effect engulfed the room, wrapping all the occupants in that translucent haze. Injuries healed, nicks and scrapes disappeared, and by the time Christmas shuddered and fell to his knees, the only one left in the room with any injuries was him. The illuminating mist disappeared and the blood flowed normally from his wound again.

One of the paramedics that had accompanied the guards back to the security outpost quickly took care of the shallow stab wound, carefully extracting the knife and wrapping up the injury, silent to Christmas's pained reactions. After several thorough wipes of the blade, the woman handed the knife back to Fredric, who snapped it closed and tucked it back into his pocket, eyes still on Christmas.

"Take him to a seat," Fredric nodded at the guard whose hand was still on the boy's shoulder.

The man pulled the boy into a weak standing position before nudging him into a nearby chair. Christmas fell into the seat without resistance, still sniffling from the injury and busily wiping his eyes and nose on the towel. His right arm hung at his side, every careless movement bringing more whimpers and tears to the forefront.

"Well, then, for those of you who are awake," Fredric resumed his wide grin, "You'll be watching Teams 3 and 4 from the screens in this room. When their match is over, we'll give you the evaluation sheets to fill out and hand back to us."

---

OOC Interaction Tags/Notes: Teams 1 and 2

@Riffus Maximus@PapiTan@January@RedDusk@Deathmyster@Baklava@Chasers115@Piercing Light@Kyrisse@dragonmancer

You're all in a different observation room in the same security outpost tower. Two long desks with snacks on them (lined with chairs and sufficient space for the eventual evaluation forms), wall of screens in front, enough chairs for everyone, sit where you like.

Everyone is healed up except Christmas who is potato-ing in the corner as per his usual.

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥: 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟙 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟙𝟚

---

Meanwhile, in the other room, a hoot and one-person applause sounded from the back.

"Wow!" Rosa hopped out of her seat, popcorn crumbs falling from her clothing as she stood up, "Now that was a wild ride. Did not see any of that coming!"

The staff mage motioned to one of the guards to sweep her mess while she pulled a small pile of papers from the table.

"Evaluation time! Write down everything you thought about the fight, all them spicy deets," she chirped and handed out evaluation sheets to the benchwarmer teams, "General impressions, thoughts, feelings, improvements-- so many improvements, hoo boy-- illustrations, whatever you feel like doing! Remember, this is a learning experience, and we're all here to help each other do exactly that. No holds barred!"

A box of pens was placed on each table for the students.

OOC Interaction Tags/Notes: Teams 3 and 4

Now's the time to write all them sweet reactions/commentaries for that crazy fight.

Also, evaluation sheets, ye boi. Make sure to hand them back to Rosa when you're done.
The sheet is divided into two sections: General Thoughts and Suggested Improvements. It is an anonymous evaluation so there is no allocated space to write names.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝕊𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕪 𝕆𝕦𝕥𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕆𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝟙 / / 𝟙𝟞𝟜𝟟

---

Rosa had busied herself with her own assortment of snacks while the off-duty teams talked amongst themselves. Skittles, popcorn, pistachios, soda. All of them absolute essentials for this gut-busting fight-to-be. The guards had declined her offer of viewing snacks earlier in their usual brusque tones. Operating procedure kept them from accepting the array of sweets and snacks. She knew that but, come on, did they really think that Rosa Schur was a snitch? Grumpy wouldn't mind her guards getting some sustenance for optimal job performance, right? Ah well, more for her then.

"Freddy..." she whinged into the handset by her mousepad, "How much longer?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'patience is a virtue'. Bleh."

"Yes, I am keeping the popcorn far from the keyboard this time. And the soda."

"Oh gosh, he's actually going dragon again. You did tell him he could stay human right? Ah well, offensive power is a good enough trade for utility and defense. Probably."

"I knew we should've gotten him a pair of those Hulk pants! It'd only take Hephy, like, two seconds to make! Do you really expect me to believe that a guy like him doesn't keep a roll of stretchy purple spandex in his workshop?"

"Urgh, fine."

"Sander versus Callan? Oh man, this is gonna be epic!"

"Oh, they're taking this pretty seriously. Look at all of them in their starting positions, how nice! I hope it's not too serious, though. It'd be bad if one of them got really hurt."

"Pffft! Vamp Boy could have a football career if those canisters were oval-shaped. Why isn't that a thing, by the way? A Magical Football League? I bet Kleinfelder would fund the cr-- Holy damn, Chris is really going for it! Breaking opponents' formations by provoking them outright. An unusual but effective tactic, just look at that dragon go!"

"Screw football! This kid could be a rodeo champion! Look at him-- Oh. Oh, that looks kinda-- Right. Chris'll be fine. Okie dokes. Under the right conditions, Sander certainly outclasses most of his peers in maneuverability and strength. Let's see how he fares against Supergirl."

"Whew, Cal's really getting into it, huh? I didn't think she'd be the 'down and dirty' type. Yes, I was talking about combat. C'mon Freddy, what the hell!"

"Ooh, Angel enters the fray! Her leadership prowess was certainly tested in the first battle but it looks like she'll be trying to redeem herself in this matchup!"

"Drago lunging through the fire and flames! What a badass move! Oh. Oh dear. Well, she's definitely a screamer, huh."

---

Sander and Grant vs. Callan

"A two-on-one, huh? Callan showed some real tenacity in the first day battle but she might have met her match here. Sander's gonna be a tricky opponent with his equal, if not more potent, capabilities. She'll have to watch out for Grant and his classic on-the-spot thinking too! What exciting stuff!"

"D-do you think they know how it looks from an outside perspective? I know Sander's self-control is sketchy in combat but... Yeah, maybe it's best not to tell them. Remind me to get some martial arts instructors for those two."

"Oooh, better watch out for 2 Chainz there! Two flags, snatched right under her nose. Wait, what'll we call him if he gets a third chain? Jerry, could you look up some chain related rapper names for me? No? First the snacks, now this. Y'know, I'd expect this sort of behaviour from your cousin Erwin, but not you. I'm VERY disappointed right now."

"Oh, so NOW you take the popcorn, huh? I've had it up to here with you, Jerry."

"Ooooh, Grant better-- OHHH, LOOK AT THAT INTERCEPTION! DID YOU SEE THAT? MAGIC FOOTBALL, I'M PATENTING THAT AS SOON AS THIS IS DONE. JERRY, SWEEP UP THAT POPCORN."

"They're really going at each other, oh dear. Cal looks like she's gonna-- SANDER, NO! OH MY GOD, WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? Yes, I know why, Fred, I meant-- Ahem. Well, that was a fascinating distraction. A rather unusual method of throwing your opponent off while also obtaining some energy for the long haul. Freddy, keep your hand on that button."

"No. No freaking way. No-- NOOOOO WAYYYYY. SHE DID THAT. SHE DID THAT! That's the most goddamn majestic hammer throw I've ever seen. I-- Yes, Freddy, I did watch the 2016 Olympics. This beats even that."

"AND GRANT BLOCKED IT! Ooh, that looked like a heavy hit. And it looks like... A-are those his pants?! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

"HAHAHAHAHAHA-- HA. HAHA-- Woah! Ow! HAHAHAHAHAHA. Pick me back up, Jerry, I can't... I can't breathe! HAHAHAHAHAHA, ow..."

"DID YOU SEE THAT, FREDDY? What a resourceful guy. Cal is completely blinded! She takes a tactical retreat and... Ooh! They're not letting her go that easily! Sisterhood or no, those pants certainly ain't travelling anywhere!"

"Looks like it's the end for Cal! Sander and Grant have got her completely pinned in this tag teamup! Sander's making the most of Grant's pin but Cal's still looking rather feisty aaand-- Fred. You better have that button ready. Fred, it-- Oh, he did it. He stopped himself! I didn't think..."

"... And that's it for Supergirl! An impressive effort but with two formidable opponents working in tandem against her, it was a quick and dirty fight. Grant, once again displaying his prowess for back line support, while Sander..."

"You know what, Freddy? I think I'm more optimistic about Vamp Boy now. He'll find his way, I just know it."

---

Marcus vs. Kusari

"Mobility versus durability, what a matchup! Kusari's abilities offer an crazy amount of versatility but will that be enough to take down our resident Jumpman, Marcus?"

"Whoa, Kusari there, making the most of that raptor leg and going straight on the offensive! She launches into a Bruce Lee-style flying kick and..."

"Eughh... Oh yeah, that's definitely broken, oh god. Mngh. Jerry, bring me a bucket. Just in case."

"Marcus recovers slightly with a rewind! That arm still looks limper than your grandma's breadsticks but it seems that he's not going down without a fight! Only one flag down from Marcus. Let's see if he can keep the rest of them."

"Oooh, going right in for a knee strike. Looks absolutely brutal, Freddy. Kusari's pulling no punches today! Or knees, for that matter. Marky McFly is pretty beat now, down two flags! If he's trying to look like a half-chewed deer in the headlights, it's definitely working! Looks like this matchup will be ending quite soon."

"Kusari seems to be... negotiating surrender? Hesitation in a battlefield is never a good plan, kid. Bad plan, bad plan! Just look at that cocksure smile and... Marcus strikes back! In one swell foop, two flags and a sucker punch to the schnozz! Kusari's not looking too happy and... What is she doing?"

"Oh god. Oh god. OH GOD. AAARGGH. I'm not... I'm not watching this. Eurghh, I know you're nigh-immortal but... MMGH. YOU GOTTA DRAW THE FREAKING LINE SOMEWHERE."

"Urgh. That's it. I'm done with this. No more watching. Gonna avoid that side of the screens. Urgh, get that bucket ready, Jerry."

---

Angelique vs. Christopher

"Who's your money on for this matchup, Jerry? No-- Yes, I know what your orders are. It's a figure of speech, come on!"

"A big ol' dragon's gonna be pretty hard to beat but Angel's got some guts of her own. Those screams aren't something to be underestimated, that's for sure!"

"Do you think we could arrange a badass angel costume for her? Like a metallic wingsuit! Oh man, that would be too cool!"

"Heph's got plenty of time, I'm sure!... Of course, this is important!"

"Oooh, Angel absolutely nailing Chris with that super screech! Chris giving her a good thwack in return! Argh, both of them keep taking hits like a champ!"

"Oh, that body slam's gonna be brut-- AND SHE COUNTERS HIM RIGHT BACK. LOOK AT THAT VOCAL UPPERCUT. No. TAIL UPPERCUT TOO. What a beautiful somersault! How's this match gonna end? I've got no goddamn clue, Freddy!"

"Another body slam. No, a pin this time! Angel's really on the ropes now! But she's on her back. Chris, what are you even doing?! She's gonna-- "

"Yep, she did it. Drago totally had that coming."

"A double whammy right to the face! Chris is absolutely out! Looks like Dragonforce didn't stand a chance against the Angel of Death after all, Freddy!"

"No, I didn't google those references beforehand! Who do you think I am?"

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Ernest Mars

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝕌𝕊𝔸ℝ𝕀𝕃ℕ 𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥 / / 𝔹𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔹 / / 𝟙𝟚𝟝𝟘

---

Marcus had left on his own so Ernie did the same, taking the time to visit his long-awaited new dorm. Silence. Ernie breathed it in, loosening his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. Solace at last. No dumbass classmates to get in his face, no asshole guards to shove him around. A little piece of paradise. His two vacuums, his big axe, his tomahawk, his cooler. Ernie relaxed at the sight of the familiar goods, doing a mental count as he inspected every piece. Everything was here. His time putting everything in its place was unfortunately shortlived, a peace that was lost too easily.

He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay here, away from everything outside. Ernie stood by the door, stock still.

There wasn't anything wrong with staying, right? He wasn't going to learn anything either way! What was the worst they could do? Taze him? Solitary confinement? It was nothing he hadn't gone through before! He just needed to stay a few more minutes, just really take in his new room and--

With all the strength he could muster Ernie pounded his fist to his chest, creating an audible thump to accompany the incoming bruise. That goddamn Stigma was getting pissier by the day. He needed to go right now, before the rest of those useless thoughts came. Ernie burst through the doorway with an agitated pace. If he left quickly enough, he wouldn't have enough time to think about it. By the time he reached the classroom, he was breathless.

---

He sat in the corner seat again, the same bored expression from earlier branding itself on his face as soon as he entered the threshold. The sight of Marcus two seats down only served to worsen his already irritable mood. Sure, the scarred boy had seemed kinda sorry about it, but it didn't change the fact that he had made Ernie look bad. If it weren't for the girl between them, Marcus probably would have found a pen embedded in his thigh by now. Bleeding AND ink poisoning, what a combo that would be.

Ernie shook his head vigorously. Geh, he needed to sate himself soon.

Sure, he wanted to get back at Marcus for earlier. But violence wasn't the answer to that, unfortunately. No, Ernie needed to fight verbal sneakiness with more verbal sneakiness. But how would he do it...

Ernie's eyes followed Fredric as he entered the room. However, it was on another dark haired mage in the front where his gaze settled. Emma, huh? That'd be a good start. She'd seemed pretty spooked by whatever happened in the cafeteria but if she was used once, she could be helpful a second time. Satisfied with the planned course of action, Ernie allowed himself a relaxed smirk and decided to actually pay attention to up front this time.

A combat exercise on his first day. Guess that was to be expected of East. Ernie breathed. It was just a game. Good. No stakes, no life and death nonsense. Nothing he needed to think too hard about. Just him, some bits of velcro, and a bunch of teammates he didn't know or particularly care about. Simple.

With the briefing finally out of the way, Ernie could finally return to ignoring the lessons. Instead, he pored his Electives sheet. He didn't want to have to take anything else he'd just ignore. Something he could ace would probably be his best choice. It would be nice to not fail a class for once. So Home Ec was his number one. Cooking and chores were something he could do in his sleep. So he'd be doing it in class too.

Elective Preferences

Art/Photography - 3
Creative Writing - 8
Woodworking - 2
P.E. - 5
Film Study - 4
Music Theory - 7
Home Ec - 1
Computer Science – 6

---

Before he knew it, class was over and it was time to get ready for combat. Strategies and talks with teammates were tossed out the window. He didn't know any of his teammates besides Emma and last he'd seen of her, she didn't seem up for talking. So that left equipment. He entered the dorm once again and went through his things.

Steel toe work boots were a definite must. Sneakers in a combat zone were a bad idea. A few hairties on the wrist in case his hair got extra fussy. He changed into something breezier; a dark blue singlet and cargo pants. Combat meant lots of running about, so he always wore something that'd let him cool off. Plus there was less chance of getting a shirt sleeve caught on something. He looped his belt through along with an axe holster.

Clothing was sorted so now it was time for the heavier stuff. On his desk laid a Makarov PM, his woodchopping axe and his tomahawk. The gun was out of the question. "No lethal methods" after all. So it was between Chopper and Tommy.

The violent release zone at East was different. He'd read about it on DnT. West's release zone lacked the time-looping phantom that was required for a sustainable venting space for subnaturals. So Kleinfelder had to make do with the local resources, more specifically, the local forests. The Fallout Zone was nothing more than a glorified wood-chopping competition, with the occasional terrorized bear and subnatural wrestling matches. The 'destruction' that was expected in the Fallout Zone had always been far too mild for Ernie's needs. It worked well enough for the pansy Aberrations at West. Felling trees was therapeutic alright, but not in the way his Stigma demanded. So he'd needed other methods of destruction. Looked like that wouldn't be the case for this campus, though.

Ernie packed away the wood-chopping axe. No more trees for this guy. Instead, he grabbed the tomahawk and tucked it into its holster, sheathed of course. With his preparations finished, he headed off to Ground Zero.