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Damn, missed the pun war smh feels bad

@Dark CloudTeam attack, I'm in. I'll set the stage for anyone who wants to join. Seems like a good time to beat the crap out of this weirdo
33 new posts lol I guess I should make a cup of tea get down to business


Holy shit, this was new: Full of holes and leaking so bad he could feel the drain. It made everything before this seem like scrapes and bruises in comparison - a few 'Oww-ies.'

As he lay there, he was actually reminded of two things from his old life. The first being a nightmare he once had, during a brief and rare time period in Uni life when a few of his 'business execs' had fucked up and he'd winded up in debt to some horrible men. Horrible and powerful men in London. A stressful time, that was. He'd gotten himself out of it, of course - he's Zell fucking Brooks - naturally. But that short time had been stressful enough to give him a nightmare, once, where he'd ended up laying in an alley, somewhere, in just this very position - full of holes and leaking profusely. Anyway, that nightmare was the first thing.

The second thing he was reminded of was his death. That bus.

The lights were red.

That feeling of life just draining from one's body. The pain. The paralysis. It was so similar. That's how he knew he was dying, in this moment. There was no other feeling like it. He could've died a hundred times in a hundred different worlds - wouldn't matter - there was no amount of familiarity that could prepare him for the terrifying creep of nothingness slowly engulfing the mind and body.

First sky, then steam: That was his view. Then, as his eyes moved to the shadowy figure in his periphery, he saw Zigmund emerge from the cloud. Zell's breaths were slow and heavy. In his mind, he pushed away the terror and came up with a plan. One plan to take this bastard with him to afterlife. But would he have the strength to pull it off?

Zigmund came closer. Zell barely had the strength to tighten his grip on his sword. This was going to be a long shot. Two teleports left. And one, "T-t-t-take... Vor," he whispered. "B-"

YEET!

His body was yanked hard, pulled with such force he bumped lifelessly along the floor, out of the steam and away from Zigmund. It was pretty rough treatment - hurt like hell - but when he saw the face of his best friend, he was not complaining. Definitely a better a plan, he thought as he managed a smile for James who wasted no time getting to work, casting Lesser Restore.

The magic curing his body felt weird, like at the hospital with Ms Devil Doctor. It wasn't as fast or intense, but he could literally feel his body repairing. Didn't do much for the pain but hell, he wasn't gonna complain. "Cheers, Jay-dog," he said over heavy breaths. "What would I do without you, eh?"

Second by second, his strength to speak was restoring. "So, bossman...?" he asked. "Rushing an opponent roughly twice your strength like a wild caveman.... how would you rate my strategy out of ten?"

He rolled his head towards the battle in time to see the water javelins form up above Zigmund, "Incoming, James," and then come flying at them. A tree suddenly moved in the way of the attack targeting Zell himself, and he knew who'd save his ass. So long as James managed to avoid getting hit, Zell would just look back to the sky with relief. "Adam, you fucking angel."

The strength to move was coming back. And with that, he was itching to get back to the fight. Just a little more time.
<Snipped quote by Saiyan>

That reminds me, I never really watched DB but it's a shame Akira Toriyama died.


Damn... RIP
@ZoolCheck the username lol My childhood consisted of watching my favourite characters get the shit kicked out of them and then get back up and win

I can't help meself lol I'm addicted


Zell found himself, stood in an unending void of pure, impenetrable blackness.

"Tuh, fe'fucks sake," he breathed quietly annoyed. He was not amused.

He looked down at his bare chest and every injury he'd gotten since waking up in the stone coffin, was open and bleeding profusely. Stab wounds, slash wounds, bruising from every hit. Blood even filled his mouth and spilled down his chin. The back of his head was leaking too.

"Weak," came a voice from the void that seemed to surround him. "Weaker than all of your friends."

The physical pain was only bearable because he knew it wasn't real. He was dreaming. However, the words from the voice cut him a little.

"Are we really gonna do this every-fucking-time I take a nap?" Zell said to the void. "Nothing better to do, eh? Lonely? All cooped up inside that sword."

"You're supposed to protect them. To be their shield. But you are weak."

Zell sighed just like his expression - bored. Very bored. Inside though, he couldn't deny the truth of Baphomet's words.

"Everyday that passes, you fall further and further behind. Without this sword - without ME - you'd be a passenger. A burden to carry." Baphomet's voice was low in pitch, deep, rough, laryngealized, gutteral. "This sword - by merely containing a piece of me. A slither - is so much more capable than you realize."

"Oh yeah?" Zell sounded interested.

"If you merely embrace it... in combination with your Ascension, it could put you beyond them. Beyond all. Zigmund: The one who held it before you. He was strong. But his limits were apparent. His ceiling, visible. You, however, have no ceiling that I can see. You are unique in that. Limitless potential. You could be something that this world has never seen."

All the blood suddenly reversed back into his body. Then his injuries closed up. Zell opened and closed his fists as he suddenly felt power surging through him. He was overflowing with Source and it felt amazing.

"Alright," the Englishman said. "If it gives me the power I need... I'm in."

"Embrace the sword. Embrace me. And I shall return the favor."

"Ha! You idiot, you thought it'd be that easy? Go fuck yourself, you freak." Zell threw his head back and laughed forcibly loudly. "You fucking dummy HAHAHA You need to work on your pitch, mate HAHAHA."

Zell could feel himself waking up, so he took a step forward, narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger at the void. "Take your little devil dick, yeah... and stick it up your fucking arse."

"Until next time..." were the last words from Baphomet. So patient. So persistent. So certain. "...Zell Brooks."


"THE NINJA IS HERE!!!"

Zell groaned as he rolled onto his back and rolled once more to be out of the bed and onto his feet. "Crap," he cursed quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Fortunately for Zell, he was in full armour, sword still strapped to his back and everything. When he found the personal quarters of Jon Gringot, he was so tired he just collapsed face first onto his bed and was alseep in seconds. So he was up and out of the room expediantly.

Unfortunately for Zell, he did not recognise where he was or how he got there, making actually getting out to the temple entrance a much longer task than urgency required. "Crap!"

After running into twenty different rooms, he finally found the kitchen and managed to get his bearings. Into the main corridor he flew and sprinted down the corridor, about to run into the entrance hall when the whole place came crumbling down with an explosion. Zell flew backwards and hit the ground hard. "Ugh!"

The battle had already started. He got up with a string of curse words, anger flaring within as he could just imagine Baphomet laughing at his incompetence. Again, forward he flew, clambering through a gap in the double-doorway covered with peices of building. Scrambling up, finding spots between the stone pieces to squeeze through. At one point in the mess, he got his boot stuck. At another point, he had to double back and find another way through the destruction. When he finally found himself through and atop the mountain of rubble, he saw the everyone. Including the man he'd promised to decapitate. "Rrrrrrrgh!"

Reckless as ever, he sprinted down the uneven, jagged stone and straight into battle, a fair distance behind Fenna who was rushing in for an attack.

"ZIGMUUUUND!!!!"

So incredibly angry. Sure, Zigmund deserved the disdain. Deserved fury. But this was not controlled. Zell was out of his mind. Red was all he could see.

This was no way to fight. Not even your worst enemies.

Nonetheless, he swooped in, drew the sword off his back, found a gap between his friends to get at Zigmund and leapt into wild swings.
Auto hit for the next poster! Can't wait to see who gets it.

And I feel bad for the character who's writer goes the turn after that!


Urge to take option 2 intensifies


"Eek!"

"!!!" Zell's soul damn-near jumped out of his body. He almost fell over.

"Zell."

"Christ Almighty, woman, I'm having a heart attack," He shook his head in shock as he gripped his chest, back against the column. "How the hell did you... can you teleport!?"

In the end, he laughed. It was funny. But he was now acutely aware that MacKensie did in fact make zero noise when moving around. He even recalled previous moments in their time in this world. She was like some super assassin. He recovered his original position, leaning his shoulder against the column and folding his arms. "Got it done, eh," he said to her. "Gold contract. Wasn't easy, but we got weeks of adventurer work done in four days. Source Comm, here we come."

When she posted up on the opposite side of the column, he smiled. Two badasses, yin and yang, looking into the night, talking through a wall. It was kinda cool. "What are you doing out here? You should be resting your injuries."

"I should," he had to concede. Stab wound in the abdomen. Nasty bubbling scar developing on the shoulder, from the ghost blade that nearly cut his arm off. A rest would tie him over until he could pay a visit to that Tiefling, 'Ms Devil Doctor' from Valhiem's magic hospital. Oh how proudly he would show off being back so soon. Take it slow, she said. He grinned to himself. I'm Zell fucking Brooks. Take it slow, like fuck I will. But back to the current conversation. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tired."

They traded a couple of short stories about how they got their injuries. Zell complimented her on her tenacity. And, he suddenly remembered, "Holy shit, doll. Back in that library. I was busy dealing with my own particular brand of pain-in-the-arse. But I clearly remember seeing you burst from a wall of fire like a god-damn phoenix, machine gunning down bad guys in mid air." Zell let out a breath, shaking his head as he stared sightlessly into the dark. "It was glorious - Serving them that 'MacFlurry.' If I wasn't avoiding getting my head chopped off, I would've given you a standing ovation."

A comfortable silence fell on them for a minute.

"How are you feeling?"

Zell guessed she was talking more than injuries now. Perhaps the emotional weight of the job. Maybe just general morale. Or anything bothering him? Didn't matter. Zell would answer the same way to her as to anyone in the group... except maybe James.

"Bloody fantastic, sweetheart," he replied casually. "I'm having so much fun. Just saved a bunch of towns from a demon-thingy. The Heroes from the Sky are at it again." He grinned. "This is a damn sight better than being at Uni, studying Psychology and..."

Managing a miniature drug empire.

"...roll call for football training." That was a close one. God help his chances of securing this drinks date they'd been flirting with if Ms Stiff-as-a-Plank found out he was selling everything under the sun at City, London University. "To be honest, MacKensie - and this is gonna sound pretty mad - but I'm over the whole 'getting hit by a bus' thing. Truly. I'm a pretty simple guy. Adaptable. And I'm here now, dealing with it. And I can live with that.

Especially with you around."

He let that last sentence marinate. So far, it had all been banter between them. A bit of honesty from him was past it's due date. "I still want answers though. Ending up in this weird world was no accident. And I've got a fair few questions for whoever has the answers."

On top the tiredness, pain made him check his injuries. James had done a great job, but blood still stained his bandages, and there was no magic cure for soreness, it seemed. He really did need to lie down. Like, now.

"Thanks too," he admitted. "For blowing up at me on the temple roof, this afternoon. With great power comes great responsibility. Sounds pretty damn cringe, but it's true." The cringe was worse than the actual physical pain. "Being a hero ain't half bad. I'll try and take a little bit more seriously." And of course, he couldn't help himself and added, "A teeeeeny little bit."

"How about you doll? You doing alright?" he asked, trying to stop his voice from softening - failing a little at the end, but back to a strong and cocky tone as he continued. "You manage to stop overthinking that problem of yours?"
Any combination of Barracker+Fenna or Barracker+Mac =



Adam and Zell passed eachother in the entrance hall, the Druid coming in as the Fighter was going out. Upon seeing the younger man, Zell smiled. Not his usual one-sided grin. Not a cocky smirk. Simply a tired and warm smile for his friend. They didn't stop to talk - talking one on one wasn't something Adam and Zell did often - but as their paths crossed, Zell reached across the man to give him a pat on the opposite-side shoulder. And then one went further inside, while the other went outside.

Upon hitting that crisp night air, Zell took a big whiff, letting out a "Whew!" to exhale, forcing some energy. As tired as he was, he was not ready to sleep just yet. Not that he was scared of sleeping. Never that. Of course not. Zell wasn't scared of anything. Ha! Zell? Scared? Don't be ridiculous.

He took a slow strolling pace, looking at the stars as he made his way to the edge of the plateau, where the steps down Temple Hill began. There, he stopped, got off the path a little and posted up against a stone column, arms folded, looking out onto the view of Northern Central Mytheria's silouette.

"Fucking hell," Zell said aloud, feeling the ache of his wounds through James' bandages and 'first aid stuff.' "If that's a Gold Tier contract, I dread to think what lurks in this world."

True as that might be, what was important is that they had indeed completed a Gold Contract, which meant that Second Chance's party classification would make one big leap from 'Brand new Bronze Tier Registrar' straight to 'Silver Tier with access to the Source Comm' in just a single, relatively quick mission. And that meant answers. Zell was sure of it. It was one thing that he, Fenna and MacKensie were instinctively certain of.

~~~~"There's a message in your Source Comm. But you've only just registered so how...?" Even the Adventurer's Guildmaster was confused.~~~~

Not surprising really, Zell thought. Fucking ANYTHING related to people from another planet is bound to confuse the shit out of anyone.

Still, that message. A message left for them. By a sender who surely had answers as to why they were here.

Zell sighed loudly, continuing to stare sightlessly into the dark. He would have to sleep soon. But not just yet.
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