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View Full Version : 6Asmo6deus6 [Abra] VS Crank [Hollywood]



Crank
06-10-2014, 06:25 PM
http://i.imgur.com/GNMlSPM.png?1

Magician VS Actor
Magic VS Science
Abra (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?84926-Abra-The-Genocide-Magician) VS Hollywood (http://forums.stickpage.com/showthread.php?76674-Hollywood)

Only one can stay standing after this apocalyptic clash.
You decide who.

Feedback, comments, criticisms, and questions are all welcomed and appreciated!




6Asmo6deus6

The job was going good, he won 5 times and tied once. He was able to finance Leo and his lifestyle. The next battle was going to be a doozy though, the receptionist had given him the file of his next opponent, Abra. He read through the files and didn't like how this dude sounded. Long range, short range, minions, and even a giant elephant, if he had a eject button, he would click it now, but this was for his brother, and streaks gave you more money so quitting now wasn't an option. He gazed at the picture that was clipped on and mumbled, "He looks familiar." He wasn't in battle garb, and was walking through the park. He was wearing a simple white shirt and pair of jeans, the hot sun glared down at him as the clock clicked past 1. Suddenly his head turned to a mass of clapping. He looked up at the magic show, he smiled, Leo loved this guy. Suddenly a revolution hit him as he stared into the smiling magician's face. He looked at the man and back to the picture, they were the same guy. His opponent was a street magician? He looked at the name, Abra, the genocide magician. He looked back and he just couldn't believe that such a man was a killer. The man was dressed sharply in a pure white suit, finished with white shoes, white gloves, and a crimson neck tie. A shield shaped mask hid his face, displaying large gaping smile, the eyes were shallowed U’s. It was a peculiarity that the man wasn’t sweating, but that didn’t mean he was a psychopath, right? He walked away, the battle was at night, and he knew it was to his advantage... At least he hoped.

Night time came and Hollywood buckled down, his white hoodie and golden blow guns shining in the street lights. He made his way to the park, seems like that's where Abra always fights. Hollywood popped a dart into each gun and slowly moved through the park. He wore black ski mask, and over a black goalie mask, the small holes made identifying him difficult and also still allowed him to use his blow guns that fit easily into the holes. He looked around for Abra then saw the man sitting on a bench, sipping from a Starbucks cup. He crept forward and licked his lips, if he got close enough he could end this before it even begun. Twenty feet, his max range put him under the cover of bushes and he pulled out one of his blowguns. He took a sharp intake and shot his sleeping dart, it torpedoed in the air, making its way, swiftly and silently to Abra's neck. Suddenly a card spun out and took the dart, only inches away from Abra's skin. The card fell and Abra called out, "Come out, no point in hiding, that squatting must be hurting you." Hollywood stood up guilty and walked up to Abra, who gestured him to sit down. Hollywood took a seat as far away from Abra as he could and the two sat there in silence. Abra took a sip then began talking, "I don't look at you badly for trying to do a sneak attack. That was a very smart move, would've of worked against most I must say." He continued drinking, Hollywood opened his mouth, unsure if that was a compliment he was supposed to accept. His jaws closed as Abra continued. "Sorry, but I'm currently drinking a fabulous coffee. Mix of milk chocolate mocha and caramel Frappuccino, with a swirl of whipped cream and French vanilla sprinkles on top. Truly excellent, would you like some?" Hollywood blinked then dumbly nodded, it did sound good. Abra disappeared then came back, another one in his hand. There was a straw in it and he handed it over and sat down.

Hollywood took a sip and licked his lips, it was really sweet, but it gave him a nice warm feeling in his stomach, "So," he drank, "You're Abra the genocide magician?"

"Guilty as charged, why do I not look the part?" Hollywood shook his head, Abra smiled, "Well that's good, who would want to watch a magic show put on by a psychopathic sociopath?" He laughed and shook his cup, listening to the shallow sloshing. He drained it and looked at Hollywood, "You done?" Danny drained his cup, his straw slurping as it drained the remnants of the sweet drink, and gave it to Abra. He teleported and dumped the cups, he waved his hand, "Well follow me boy. Time to get this battle started." He made his way to an open park and turned, he bowed and teleported further, well beyond twenty feet and began chucking cards. Hollywood blocked them with his blowguns and began running towards Abra. He put his other loaded dart gun to his mouth and drew closer, finally he fired. A card flew up and blocked it, and Abra teleported in front of Hollywood. He kicked him back and manifested a card sword. He pointed it at the fallen fighter, "That's it?" He reached his hand out and helped Hollywood up, "Come on you can do better than that."
Hollywood tightened his grip on Abra's hand and with his other he stabbed down with a dart. Abra flicked the dart away with his sword and smacked Hollywood's hand. "See you're getting better." He smashed the pummel of his sword into Hollywood's hockey mask then backed off. He drew back his mask and summoned his clowns. "Now Hollywood, let's see if you can improve any. I'll pit you against my minions, and if you beat them all, you can fight me again. Because right now, it's just too easy to kill you. And we shared a nice coffee time together so it'd make me very sad to kill you so quickly." Abra smiled, "good luck." The four clowns dashed forward. Hollywood quickly loaded his two guns and fired, he caught Tum Tum in the stomach and he got Isaac on the cheek. The two fell and tripped Stefan and Estaban, Hollywood rushed forward and to stab the other two. It was a foolish move, Stefan did a low sweep with his scimitar and Estaban flipped over Tum Tum, his armored shoe swinging down onto Hollywood’s head. Hollywood jumped back and hurried to load his darts, but the two clowns didn’t give him the chance. They recovered quickly and rushed at Hollywood, who had to abandon reloading to get ready for a close range fight. He went for Stefan first, the intense close range making the wide and long scimitar a disadvantage. He aimed for the face and stomach with his dull weapons being that he was always against killing. He was at a disadvantage and he knew it, he turned to intercept Estaban’s attack and was put in a half nelson by Stefan. Hollywood fumbled for his darts that hung around his chest and he stabbed Stefan in the arm, but Stefan’s grip tightened and Hollywood couldn’t block the slug to the stomach. Finally the toxin kicked in and Stefan’s grip relaxed and Hollywood slipped through, blocking the punch with a crossguard. The two fighters danced as they clashed, sparks flew as the metal weapons clashed. Hollywood could see the gold paint being scraped off as the two extremely close combat fighters tried to batter each other to the ground. Finally Hollywood saw his chance, Estaban went for a haymaker and Hollywood ducked, going in for a low sweep that knocked Estaban down. Hollywood pulled out a dart and stabbed Estaban. The clown fidgeted before he laid still, snoring.

Abra laughed and the four snoring clowns dissipated into dust and were sucked back into his portal. Abra summoned the strong man, Sebastian, next, and the body builder placed his great sword in front of himself, creating a shield. Sebastian charged forward, his sword propped flat in front of him and digging a furrow into the ground, and Hollywood dive rolled to the side. Sebastian switched to a swing and the blade caught Hollywood in the foot. The sharp blade slit through the shoe and slashed into the foot. The tip avoided the plantar arteries but the wound was severe as it had cut through the vein that flowed to the toes and the vein in between the middle and index toe. Hollywood hit the ground and rolled, screaming at the pain. His foot was basically cut in half, but he stood up with deep pants. He had to win. He ripped a sleeve off his hoodie and bound his foot together, but he still couldn’t put any pressure on his foot. The white fabric soon turned red with blood and Hollywood turned to face Sebastian who charged at him once again. Hollywood loaded both of his blowguns and fired, one pinged off, but the other got Sebastian in the shoulder. The big man stumbled and fell, sliding on his blade. He dissipated into dust and flowed back into Abra’s mask.

Abra brought out his Xerxes and Artemis, then changing his mind, he reabsorbed the two and he brought out Funkfreed. "I'm skipping to the last round kid, hope you survive it." The armored elephant charged forward and Hollywood dove to the side, he fired a few darts but they just pinged off Funkfreed's hard hide.

"How am I supposed to take down an elephant with darts?" he questioned Abra.

He shrugged, "You should've thought of that when you chose those weapons."

Hollywood got up and prepared to dodge again, mumbling to himself, "Who in a million years would ever prepare to fight an elephant in a WRHG?" He dove to the side again but this time Funkfreed whipped his trunk out and grabbed Hollywood midair. He raised him up and began tightening, the armor ripped through Hollywood's clothes and he screamed in pain as they dug into his skin. Hollywood couldn’t focus, the metal was cold but hot against his flesh. He could feel his field of vision blur, this was it, he was going to die. He gasped as the trunk tightened more, he could feel his ribs strain against the pressure, but the pain seem to lessen has he numbed. Maybe this won’t be that bad, I mean, what do I have to live for anyway? I can just slip away. Hollywood thought as he began closing his eyes when a memory flashed before his eyes. It was Leo and Sparky, waiting for him. He couldn’t die, they needed him.
Funkfreed got prepared to end it, ready to smash him into the ground and Hollywood suddenly realized the elephant's weak spot, the nose! He grabbed a handful of darts that were by his neck and began stuffing them down Funkfreed's nostrils. The elephant collapsed onto his knees, and his trunk loosened, allowing Hollywood to roll out. Abra waved his hand and Funkfreed dissipated. Hollywood laid gasping on the ground, the armor had torn his sides into ribbons. Thankfully the metal hadn’t dug in enough to be life threatening, but it had cut into his oblique and the bleeding was pretty severe.

He clapped his hand, "Very impressive, see look, practice makes perfect." He cracked his knuckles, "You ready to fight the boss now?"

Hollywood shook his head and waved his hand, "No stop, I quit." He chuckled, "I've practiced enough. I'm done for today. I can’t even stand." His blood began seeping out of his makeshift hoodie bandage and wetting the floor underneath him. Abra passed a long rope of ribbons to him. “Thanks.” He grunted and wrapped himself up. Abra offered him a hand to help him up, but drew back when Hollywood tried to stab it again. Abra decided to leave him on the
floor and sat down near him.

"You know you owe me for that drink right?"

"What? You mean it wasn't on you?"

"Why would it be? I don't even know you."

Hollywood looked at Abra and simply gave his hand, “I’m Hollywood.”

Abra took it and shook, "Abra, the genocide magician, and alright I’ll, ow!" He looked at the pin prick on his hand, a blood pearl building up, "What the?"

"Practice makes perfect." Hollywood chuckled. Abra laughed and he stood up, "Uhhh Abra? Are you mad at me? You know I'm injured right? It's immoral to, Aaah!" Abra began kicking and stomping on Hollywood, laughing the whole time. He beat Hollywood into unconsciousness before he succumb to the toxin and fell asleep.


Crank

“You did what now?” There are certain things in life that should just be a given. One of which is a grace period between when you get home from busting your butt for eight straight hours and being told the garbage you still need to do. Especially when said garbage is so absurd, insane and outright moronic children would stand up and boo if it started getting aired on Cartoon Network. Needless to say I was pissed, my voice in a low growl as my body froze at my given mission, rage locking in my hunched over position reaching into the refrigerator. “Repeat exactly what the hell you just said.”

“I just said I set you up with a fight,” A far cry from the excitement he had when I walked in, my clan leader couldn’t even join me in the kitchen, “...And that it was scheduled to be in an hour.”

“No, I said exactly what the hell you just said.” Slamming the white plastic door, my sentance found much needed emphasis before I uncapped a bottle of water. “Word for freakin’ word.”

“I said-”

“To my face.”

The following five seconds dragged on about as merrily as a corpse on a dirt road. Glare glued to the doorway leading between the kitchen and living room, I didn’t even give F a chance to sneak in as his feet meekly shuffled towards me. Head bowed like his neck was in a guillotine, his weak gaze drifted up to me, his executioner. And believe me, I wanted to be, or at least kick his ass out of my house for screwing me over like this. Or at least kick his ass.

“I said great news… you’re going to fight Abra the Genocide M-”

“Genocide, F. Genocide!” Now officially shouting as my neighbors probably filed noise complaints, my sorry excuse for a leader flinched, “Do you even know what that means! What the hell were you thinking?”

“Th-”

“Don’t answer that!” I wanted to charge him like a bull when he staggered back at my volume, “You like to think you do, but you have no regard for life around you! I’ve been intentionally laying low since I started, and your impulsive ass just set me up to die!”

“But you fought Nina!”

“Under a false set of circumstances! I’ve read every file I could get my hands on since I cheated death from that undead bitch! You want to know who I was specifically trying to avoid?”

Now about twenty feet away from me, he had to project his guess, fighting it against a scared stutter. “W-was it Wyv N-nagasoul?” Oh my eye twitched right there. That dragon, demon or whatever was the initial guilt he laid on me to join the freaking clan, that F apparently didn’t even fight in. Neither of us met the guy. Ever. Or saw him. Ever. All we know about him is that he killed a guy in a tryout. Which happens a lot. But the thing was, F knew the guy. But the thing was, F knew the guy for an hour. I was not having it today.

“No! Abra the freaking Genocide Magician! The guy with a triple digit body count that can summon a possy of serial killers!”

“But if you beat him it’d be so good for the clan!”

“To hell with the clan!” F gasped like a child. I was maybe five seconds from putting a hole in the wall when I finally decided I needed to calm down. Ripping my eyes from him, I paced the kitchen, forcing deep breaths.

Between his shock at something all things considered not that surprising, and my lack of having anything to say to that man, no words were spoken for the next several minutes. Hell, I couldn’t even hear him breathe, just looking down at his folded hands, shaking a little. Only thing I remember hearing was when I finally took a sip of my water, swallowing it down hard.

“If… if you don’t go soon, you’re going to be late.”

“I’m not going.”

“But-”

“I’m not. Going.”

“Then… they’ll send someone after you.”

“They don’t know me. They haven’t seen me without my mask, and I haven’t left them a shred of anything with my name on it.”

“But then-” F’s eyes suddenly widened. They tend to do that when things suddenly become his problem. Scoffing, I crossed my arms, awaiting explanation. “They might come after the people you know!”

“Again, I’m fine because they don’t-” Catching the issue, a smirk crept up my face, probably reminiscing the grinch. “Oh! So you’re going to be the one they come for! Guess you might want to hurry down there and tell them I forfeit before hell breaks loose.” Just to clarify, I mean the original, not Jim Carrey.

I knew he was about to start panicking, so I left the kitchen and made my way into my room, shutting the door to keep him out of my sight. Out of mind, ya know? I was still in my work uniform when I hopped onto my top bunk, leaning my hands on the back of my head like a pillow. I didn’t think anything of it when I shut my eyes, so I really didn’t think I winded up passing out and an hour flew by when a cell phone started blaring in the living room.

Mumbling various irritated things, I rolled to the side but it only rang twice before it was silenced. Smooth F, that won’t piss anyone off. Maybe four minutes later and it went off again, this time though I hopped off my bed having cooled down enough to not want to choke out my leader until he turned from white to blue.

The man was shaking like a dog on the couch when I walked up to him, dread in his eyes as they drew up to me. He didn’t have to say it, I knew it was the wRHG calling him about me. Shrugging, I took a seat at the far end of the sofa. “Go ahead and pick it. Put it on speaker though.”

Nodding wearily, it rang another two times before he could summon the courage to press the green button. “H-hello?”

“Is this the Uplift leader?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“The wRHG. You can tell your coward of a partner we don’t need him today. A friend he doesn’t deserve offered to step up and fill the match card.” F and I slowly exchanged a bewildered look, he was the only gladiator I was associated with, but he sure as hell didn’t step up.

I mouthed the question, but F verbalized it.

“Who?”

“The Defiler.” Well that didn’t help.

”Who?”

“August Pine.”

“August!” Luckily F slammed the phone shut before my voice could be made out. Not the most polite thing to do to people who have access to murderers and monsters, but still. “They’re dragging him into this!”

“Who’s August?”

Worried for the man, my answer was hurried as I ducked back into my room, “A guy with a good heart who doesn’t deserve to be slaughtered!” Jacket already on my back, I was fumbling with my masks and the rest of my gear as I jogged into the kitchen, “Come on F, we’ve got to get to him before he gets to the arena!” Ripping my apartment door open, I shot my head around expecting F to be on my tail. He never left the couch.

“But… if we stop him… they’ll come for us.”

I froze. Craning my neck, my only metaphorically thawed muscle, all I could do was look in the direction of his voice.

“I… I can’t do it.”

My mouth fell, looking for a good word but it merely hung there when nothing came up.

“I’m sorry…”

The door didn’t slam behind me that time. I didn’t leave him with an echoing bang, I didn’t leave him with one last shout. I didn’t even leave him with a last parting word or a shot of guilt for all times he dished it out to me.

Gently pulling it shut behind me...

I just left him.

Alone.


“August!”

Truthfully, I wasn’t positivie it was him until he turned around. Too many people had a shaved head to know for sure, and he didn’t bring his weapons with him when we went to investigate Nina, which was odd come to think of it. It looked like he had a metal backpack on, as well with two circular shields attached to it. Could’ve come in handy back then. That said though, I breathed a sigh of relief upon the sight of his familiar batch of scars. They were arching across his brow and traveling down past his eyes after a short breaking over them, forming a pair of half arrows. Wide genuine smile and excited wave as soon as he saw me, he definitely didn’t change. Which was good, he came with awkward moments that he failed to feel, but he could spread a good mood like paint on a vast canvas. “Hollywood fight?”

“Huh?” I lifted an eyebrow but quickly shook my head, “No, I’m not taking my fight back. And honestly, I don’t think you should take it either.”

Obviously confused, he cocked his head to the side as I closed the last few feet between us at the back entrance to the wRHG arena. Glancing back to the colossal building behind us, he indicated the four letters at the top. “Wuh-err-guh-huh mad.”

“Wuh-err-guh-huh?” I needed a minute for that one. “I think most people pronounce it by letter name Aug, not sound. So, double yew, are, aych, gee.”

“August like wuh-err-guh-huh.”

Scratching the back of my neck, I winded up just shrugging it off. “Anyway though, I really don’t think you should fight Abra.”

“Abra bad, August need fight,” A reassuring smile spread across his expression, but having read the file to the person he was squared up against, it didn’t do much for me. “Be okay!”

“What the hell do you fight with that you think you can take on an entire circus?” It was a genuine question at first, but I quickly shook my head, “Wait, nevermind. We just gotta go.” Knowing how he operated, I went to grab his wrist but he pulled his arm back and grabbed my hand. I groaned and he smiled, but when I went to pull him towards my car he resisted, legs locking into place as he became suddenly distracted. “Aug?”

Lifting an eyebrow, I tracked his line of sight, slowly looking over my shoulder. A little ways away from the staff entrance, a checkered taxi had rolled to a stop with a white gloved hand pushing the door open. There’s no way my luck’s that bad. Pulling August’s arm harder, I indicated to the back where my sedan was parked. Even if that was him, he hadn’t made us yet and I intended to keep it that way.

“Abra go!” My eyes clamped shut as my free hand found it’s way to my hockey mask. Well there goes that plan. “August kill later.”

“Now why would you possibly do that?” Sounding shockingly close for having just walked out of a car a twenty second sprint away, my eyes snapped open. Flabbergasted, my head turned in jerks to face a six foot tall man in all white, inches from August and staring him down. Well, probably anyway. There wasn’t any sort of hole on the mask he wore, just a painted smile and curved eyes. August’s carefree expression hardened, but his good mood stayed locked in his face as his gaze held a pulsing determination.

“Abra fight kill. August fight live.”

Dark chuckles left the figure before us, somehow coming even closer to Aug as I slipped my hand out of his grip. “But you’re the one who wants to kill me, so doesn’t that make you the villain between the two of us?”

“Come on Aug, he’s not worth it.” He actually was, but definitely not head on. Having to to bite my tongue during their initial chat, I grabbed my ally by the collar and tugged him back. Despite his effort, I did have a bit of weight on him so he staggered back after a couple of seconds, walking by my side but keeping his eyes locked on Abra. “You’re not dying because of me.”

“Looks like Master has you on a tight leash,” The comment felt like a shot to my morals with the the scoff it was led by, “I had a tamer who did that to Xerxes and Artemis. He died, ripped apart and eaten actually. Can you guess by who? You better pray your pet’s not a cannibal!”

Taking his eyes off Abra for the first time since he appeared, August gazed at me confused. “What mean?”

“He’s calling you an animal and saying I own you.”

“Oh-” I almost jumped as the proximity of the voice went from far behind me to slightly ahead instantly. Snapping my eyes to the voice I saw him leaning against a car about five spots before mine, arms crossed and mask locked on us, “You’re Hollywood, aren’t you? You’re the guy who got me pulled away from my performance.”

There was no way I was about to admit that.

“Hollywood friend.” Damn it Aug!

“Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you.”

“Don’t worry, I have every intention of driving away.”

“In what?”

I didn’t mean to, but my eyes tracked to my car before facing Abra again. I’d bet a dollar he had a growing grin as he followed my eyes to it, but before I could turn back to him he was gone, there was just a dissipating cloud where he once stood. I stopped dead in my tracks, cringing. He could teleport. I messed up bad. There were no souls but us in the staff parking lot since his cabby drove off, but maybe a hundred vehicles scattered in the spots of ranging conditions and types. And I just indicated mine. Awesome.

“Bad.”

“Thanks Aug,” I sighed, bringing my hand to my face, “I had no idea.”

Happy to help, he nodded vigorously as I drew a blowgun from my belt loop. Glancing back, he picked up that a fight was coming whether I liked it or not, so he took a slight lead ahead of me, maybe by an inch or two. We both knew that son of a bitch was in my car, but apparently only I thought to draw a weapon. Maybe he wouldn’t’ve helped out much back in the day after all.

Two feet from our destination however, a faint pop stopped us both dead in our tracks, although it got Aug in a much more masculine way, who snapped his arm out to stop me from proceeding as he crouched down ever so slightly. Indicating my trunk, I nodded. I saw it lift too and as faint snarling began I carefully took a dart from off my sash, loading it in my gun as I drew it to my mouth. Taking preparations of his own, Aug slid the top compartment of his metal box to the side, reaching in and drawing a reflective disk. Twirling it between his fingers, it suddenly whirled at my car, impacting my bumper creating a bang and huge scratch as it bounced off.

I was about to go off on him but August’s action was met immediately with the trunk flying open and a lion pouncing out with a roar loud enough to make Simba wet himself. Hell, it almost made me wet myself, damn near choking on the dart between my teeth as my partner’s palm slapped on the ground. Lurching his back forward violently, his smile was gone, replaced with an intense ferocity as he delivered one of his own. Holy shit, that man could’ve been a movie monster! Out of nowhere, his voice was as deep as the great lakes and loud as the thunderbolt that destroys you, and just as suddenly. He held it for five seconds, but the cat turned tail on the spot, making a beeline away from us and out of the lot. If my brain was functional, that still would’ve been a red flag, but for the time being the safety of strangers didn’t register so I was satisfied.

...And then the door opened. Which led straight to me swearing. Despite the lion, I was still expecting Abra to exit my vehicle, ya know, alone. Not at all the four armed clowns, body builder, torch wielding duo, another duo with a boatload of knives, a four armed shadow thing with a beaked mask and then the magician himself. My car is not that big. That was bullshit.

“Just thought as long as you didn’t come alone, I’d have a team of my own,” I could almost hear the grin under his godforsaken mask as he took his place in the back of his gang, “But honestly, I just want to check if you’re even worth my time. Stefan. Would you please?”

The painted smile of the clown in the middle right grew to eerie proportions as he stepped forward. Like the others, his hair looked like rainbow vomit on top of a face white enough to be unrubbed sunblock. Stereotypically, he had one of those big red noses too, like the ones that’ll squeak if you punch it hard enough. Armed with a scimitar, he rested the tip on the ground before suddenly dashing forward at my ally, rising it high above his head as he screamed bloody murder. Didn’t really go well for him, a quick puff of air and I launched my dart at him, connecting with his collar before he could block it with the blade, a powerful sedative pumping into his bloodstream ripping him from his former intensity and dragging him through the mud of exhaustion.

Which, as it turns out, is that’s no way to battle August. Not surrendering his charge, he slashed his blade downwards at my partner, who answered with a quick step in and swift turn, facing the sword that cut the air beside him. His unphased reflection shown in the scimitar’s shine as his left hand shot out, ensnaring Stefan’s wrist. With a sudden jerk, he made him stagger forward, releasing the handle as his right hand located the back of the clown’s head. Startlingly fast he ripped it forward as feet pivoted, whirling in a full 180 effectively ramming the clown’s eye dead on the corner of his metal box. He reeled back, screaming, cupping some fluid that trickled down his organ of sight. Grimacing, I turned away but couldn’t avert my eyes. Stefan still held the blade as he fell back, but loosely in his grip it was easily taken by August in another spin before it sliced deep into his throat, immediately turning the shriek into a gurgle as blood gushed forth. I had never felt so sick as when that body thudded the ground, squirting fluids.

“Oh this is going to be good!” That… was one way to put it. Glancing to August, I could see his fighter’s pride in the grin he wore. Reaching back he drew out six disks, one between each of his fingers as I loaded another dart, while across from us melee weapons were readied, knives were drawn holding the tip, and the torch weiders both took a swig from their flasks. The shadow beast slowly turned to the side, facing Abra as he slipped a deck of cards out from under his pocket, but he shook his head. “Gentlemen, this is going to be as quick as you make it.”

Alright. Immediately I shot a dart square at his neck, but a card suddenly flew out and intercepted it, snapping the sedative laced tip in half. It was mildly disappointing.

“On second thought, no rush.”

And with that, the chaos timebomb ticked its last and took us all in a violent detonation. Blades flew at us like bullets, peppering the Pontiac we stood in front of when we dove to the side, causing its blaring alarm to be the soundtrack to our battle. Trying to cover us as he recovered with a roll, August whipped all his disks at the mob but a fireball quickly tore at me in the midst of an endless stream of ‘we-oos’.

Scampering up, I bolted off to the side towards the car’s hood, rolling over it as I smacked a speeding blade out of the air. Another caught my forearm, gashing deep into the skin before I finally ducked behind my cover, biting my lip down as heat exploded on the opposite side of the vehicle. Adrenaline tried but failed to mask my anguish, and the gushing of my beating blood was enough to make me woosy. Placing another dart between my teeth, I poked my head out of cover to get a quick sight of the unraveling scene.

With myself behind cover, Aug became the primary target. Blades flew at him like a submachine gun and the only reason he kept his pulse was by a swift turn and taking them with the shields clamped together on his back. Additionally, the remaining three clowns moved into position to surround him but the bodybuilder was lost from sight. His dire situation trumped the search for the missing man however, and despite being quick to get a lock on one, a firebreather caught my attention. The man’s torch was about three inches from his face and his mouth was blatantly full, aimed directly at August. Leaning back in preparation to lurch forward, I took my shot racing to stop his attack. The projectile impaled his puffed cheek, popping it like a balloon and making him hack up his vodka. Splattering out as he gagged, it met the fire instantly, igniting in unholy rage as he became a living inferno starting with his arms. The scent of burning flesh stained once clean air, and even though I hid from the sight of my action, his shrieks left nothing to the imagination. My stomach rolled as I felt something in the pit of my throat, but shock coughed it away when I turned around, finding the body builder.

The absolute tank of a human being left me with no recovery time whatsoever, slamming the type of mace you’d expect from an ogre at my face. I fell to the right more than I dove, narrowly avoiding the massive spiked ball as it smashed into the car door, snapping off it’s hinges before disappearing inside in as a crinkled ball of scrap metal. Even with it’s horrific size the behemoth swung it back out just as easily, twisting it effortlessly in his hands before bringing it down directly at me. It was the only time a backwards somersault ever came in handy for me, pavement exploded from where I once sat sat sending tiny pieces of concrete out like debris from a bomb. Stinging sensations riddled my body but the small stones that struck my gash rippled a fresh wave of excruciation for my brain to relay.

A scream was contained but a yelp still escaped me as I struggled to my feet. Shaking from my dread adrenaline cocktail, a flying fist wasn’t registered quick enough to be avoided. Oxygen launched out of my body like a space shuttle as the impact lifted me inches into the air. Individual throbbing no longer registered, I was just a mass of anguish when I struck the ground on my knees, losing a blowgun somewhere in the process. Wheezing desperately, I placed my right forearm on the ground I kneeled against, bowed down as a shadow loomed. I wanted to swear but I could hardly breathe as it was, and I needed that energy to make my limbs move. My hands darted to the sash across my body, each grabbing a handful of my laced projectiles while my head shot up.

The mace was bearing down on me but my legs shoved against the ground as my palms thrust forward. About a dozen darts stabbed the iron hard chest of the buff beast, whose eyes blinked rapidly as his blood pumped a terrifying amount of sedative to his heart. Failing grip, the mace dropped out to the earth with a bang while his wobbling legs struggled to stand. The bigger they are though. Taking my spare weapon from my belt loop, I smacked him on the forehead with the gold painted rod. He hit the ground hard, but too far out of it from the sedative to notice, eyes struggling to remain open before finally failing.

Doing my best to catch my breath on the other hand, I staggered to my bashed up cover to check in on August, whose situation had improved dramatically. Three clowns seemed to have become two as his shields were revealed to be more like shallow disks filled with a mercury like substance, ignoring gravity as they faced both his attackers. Silver liquid rippling from the center, a flying knife I failed to notice captured his attention, whipping his giant disk to catch it, mercury facing away from me and at the blade. Entering the fluid it made no sound, but when Aug snapped the other bowl at the clown to his left I sure as hell heard a thunk and gasp. Blade protruding from his chest, his legs gave way and a blood pool formed where he fell while his enraged ally swung a hatchet at my friend.

It was evaded by a quick weave, August replying by twisted his shield portal and ramming the clown with the rim moments before snapping it up, connecting with his chin. The clown staggered back as the remaining firebreather spat flames at him. Fearlessly, my shaved ally didn’t shy away from its path, instead shooting his hand out at the clown, ensnaring his arm and ripping him in the way. With all the cloth he wore, he ignited as quickly as the one I took out in the beginning. The memory made me cringe, but remembering I should actually be helping I fired a quick dart at the blade thrower, knife in hand and prepared to strike. Still looking at the bigger threat, he failed to see it coming, eating it in the shoulder before turning around to face me. Exhaustion already setting in his eyes, his last throw was feet off, but the human flamethrower beside him gulped another shot of vodka with every intention of making it count.

A barrage of disks however, stopped that from happening. Blood splashed across the concrete as they sliced at his neck and face, mucus oozing as one of the silver projectiles cut his nose clean off. His legs wobbled before falling to his knees, a mixture of snot and gore draining down his body like someone slashed a swimming pool. Finding my limit as he convulsed, I ripped my hockey mask off, breakfast splattering about a foot from my shoes as bile burned the inside of my throat. My face contorted in disgust as I tried to swallow what didn’t come out, barely succeeding as a second wave threatened to sneak back up.

“Well well! I’m actually impressed!” Clapping entered my ears as I wiped my mouth, spitting the remaining puke in the pile with the rest when my hand drew away from it. If Abra actually got a kick of that, he was sicker than I thought and he could go to Hell. Hopefully today.

Groaning, I slowly stood up taking another dart out of my sash, feeling just a few left. An uneasy frown tugged down on my face at the thought, but August’s confidence seemed to break us even. Resolve unmatched, he cocked his head at our enemies as if it was water, not blood, soaking his then crimson clothes. Passing me a soft smile sympathetic for the sights I was witnessing, all I could really do was nod. Ash began mixing with the air as the corpses scattering the battlefield began to disintegrate, their remains being picked up by the light breeze. I tugged my jacket tighter around me, the chill sending a shiver across my body as I realized the weapons remained. Abra either didn’t care or didn’t notice, real expression was impossible to detect behind his mask.

“Marionette, take his puppet would you? He’d be fun to have in the act.” The shadow slowly nodded, spreading all four of its arms, strings falling down from his fingers as his leader took out a deck of cards, spraying them in an arc and catching them easily in his other hand, “Can I interest you in a magic trick, Hollywood?”

“No.”

Dark chuckles were the reply I got. “Well maybe I’ll just show you one then,” His palm slowly reached up to his mask, “Abra,” Carelessly he dragged it away, showing me for the first time a godless swirling red portal into oblivion where his face should’ve been, “Kadabra,” A smoldering fireball blasted out of the void on the spot, blazing with a heat intense enough to feel from my short distance away. No faith in my car cover from such an attack, I turned tail and bolted away. “Alakazam!” Looking back, I saw the mask return to his face before he vanished into nothingness. Ripping my eyes forward, a white cloud formed fifteen feet away and imploded in itself, bursting into Abra as he swung his deck at me in an arc, sweeping a wave of raging cards at me. Sliding like a baseball player, I dodged decapitation from his 52 projectiles as the fireball struck the car. A splash of fire shattered the windows behind me in a hellish impact, igniting the seats and pluming smoke on the spot.

My name might’ve been Hollywood, but I live in the real world where cars don’t explode. Armed with my blowgun, I swiftly loaded a dart but the magician was gone before I could even bring the weapon to my mouth. Biting down on it hard, I scampered to my feet before hearing the rush of another fireball. Checking over my back, I bolted to the right upon seeing the blaze, not even bothering to look as I heard it strike a vehicle yet again. It wasn’t a hot day to begin with, but with the infernos the temperature began rising to something unbearable. Sweat soaked my mask as the air cut to the path of a card, but pivoting suddenly I swiped my blowgun down smashing it out of the sky.

My ears were the only defense I had from onslaught, ducking and weaving as cards and flames fired from all sides around me. Every car within a full 360 of me was burning, smoke was making it hard to think as I struggled to breathe. Somehow though, the I managed to hear every projectile that came my way.

“Where the hell is my boom?”

“In a shitty movie somewhere,” I hacked, sliding off the hoodie that was slowly overheating me, “I don’t know!”

“Know what? I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve got to figure this out. I’ll leave you in good hands though!”

I was about to make a comment, but the air had become just as good an ally as Aug, warning me of a few things came whirling towards me. In a quick motion, I swung my jacket into their path, knocking all the projectiles clanking to the ground.

Wait a minute, clanking?

Eyes immediately snapping to the ground, they widened at the sight of what just tied to kill me. It looked like three reflective CDs… weapons that I had come to learn were owned by-

“August?”

“Hollywood run!”

Despite the fact that those were his weapons charging me now, his advice still felt worth following, worried as his voice was. Abra seemingly gone, like I could see through the smog anyway, I bolted between the blazing cars, cringing as I heard Aug’s steel strike beside me. My mind spun rapidly as I looked for somewhere good to hide behind, but hearing my ally grunt I stole a quick glance back before settling on a new vehicle.

Marionette was standing directly behind the man, the stings of one of his four hands wrapped around August’s wrists and feet. Beads of sweat formed and fell as he struggled against it, snapping at the sting with his jaw like a shark, but they were always yanked out of his reach. He looked like a clumsy puppet while Marionette forced him to dig for another set of disks, wobbling awkwardly as he jerked his shoulder and elbows to stop it. Mouth agape, I just watched appalled at what he was reduced to. Fighting a war, I didn’t even move as the next disk left his grip. Having snapped his elbow down that exact moment, it stuck the cement about twenty feet in front of me, and never made it within ten as it bounced against it.

Shaking my mind out of my trance, I struggled to get my bearings on everything again. Aug still had the first clown’s blade on his hip, which the shadow beast shakily made him reach for, but he also had his portal back on his back. Where was the other one? Vaguely recalling his throwing it at the start of the battle, my search was on, dipping my hand down as I swiped a knife off the street along the way. Stealing a quick glance back, August was moving forward like a horror spoof with all the speed of a crippled zombie. Not to come of judgy, but I would’ve expected any sort of mind control or manipulation to go over a lot …smoother... on him. Not that I minded, mind you.

Another disk clammered lamely before I found the thing, whirling around with a blowdart as I kicked it behind a car. God August made no progress, if I didn’t need Marionette to miss my plan I would’ve saved my breath, but I shot. The man had a full two seconds to move, staggering awkwardly as he brought his scimitar down at it. He missed, but it lost so much air it went between his legs anyway. Shaking my head, I sidestepped to the car the portal was behind while I took another pathetic shot. We probably looked like a blooper reel, which ya know, is awesome for someone’s self esteem.

Portal at my feet and behind the car, I ducked under the side, swapping my blowgun for the knife I swiped. Reappearing for only a moment, I inhaled sharply to get August on his guard but when I ducked back down I dove into his mercury pool, barely feeling an inch of warm, thick liquid as I traveled through them. Somehow emerging dry immediately with my view of parking lot swapped for sky, I swung my blade over my head as my body did what Starfox fans would only describe as a barrel roll. Between my reach, height, and August’s no progress, the tip of my blade sliced into startled shadows. Marionette tried to react, strings coming down on me from every direction but my feet pounded off the street the moment my knees scraped against it. Launched forward, my knife stabbed deep inside it, ripping it upwards and stopping only once my knuckles struck the beak of his mask. Its body burst into tendrils of darkness, dissipating before it could even complete a step back. Panting, I turned to face my ally.

“Hey Aug, you good?”

He nodded vigorously, still wielding the sword as he went to open his mouth. Another voice beat him to the draw however.

“So apparently cars are specifically built to not explode,” We both pretty much snapped our necks to face the man. Pushing his way out of the back entrance, Abra had been projecting his voice as he walked towards us, chocolate bar in one hand and grenade in the other. “Guess Hollywood’s a liar, eh Hollywood?”

“Right, say my name again and I’m Machoke you out.” That was stupid, I regret having said it. “And you seriously bought a freaking snack?”

“I kill people for fun and you think I paid for this?” An opening appeared in his mouth hole and about half the bar vanished inside, “Apparently some Sebastion guy stockpiles this stuff, just swiped it from his changing room.”

“Sebastian.”

“That’s literally what I just said.”

“Right,” I smirked, crossing my arms, “But clearly you can’t do things on your own, so you undoubtedly screwed it up.”

Abra scoffed at me right back as August looked between us, scratching behind his ear. “I can’t? Your lover spent most of this fight saving you, you’d be bleeding out if it weren’t for your hubby.”

“What hubby?”

“Husband.”

“What husband?”

Laughing a little louder, Abra began tossing the grenade to himself as he slowly approached us, “The man you marry,” He replied, rapidly getting more and more condescending as he continued, “And before you ask, you marry who you love, and before you ask, you love people you like a lot.”

“August marry Hollywood?”

“No.”

“Sure why not, I now pronounce you man and man! You may now kiss the groom!”

I just shot the guy by my side a quick glare. “No. We had this conversation before.”

“August still no kiss Hollywood?”

“Oh my God!” Abra almost keeled over, “You had this conversation before!?”

“Just throw the freaking grenade!”

Laughing shamelessly, he complied, pulling the pin on the green frag before launching it at us. Not asking whether or not August knew what it was, especially considering it looked like he was about to slice at it, I grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him to the side, full blown sprinting until he caught on. The bomb landed where we once stood, bouncing underneath a nearby Ford as I dragged August over a GM a few feet away. Taking cover, I plugged my ears immediately, urging him to do the same. Asking no questions, he mimicked me, mere moments before an ear rupturing blast destroyed my hearing in a cataclysmic bang. A high pitched ringing overtook my mind as my brain pulsed, the finger tips in my ears growing damp as blood trickled through my ski-mask. My throat burned from what I assumed what my screaming, but not even my own noises could penetrate the horrid ring. Glancing to Aug, he was already fighting to regain his footing, obviously taken by surprize by the volume of the noise as well. Blinking his eyes into focus, they shot open suddenly, rising his blade as he shoved me down. A metallic glint seared my eye, but I felt August’s palm brace hard against my shoulder as the throbbing in my ear freshened with another strike.

Gaze lifting, a woman on horseback retracted her sword from August as her beast continued galloping forward before skidding to a stop, stamping its feet and turning around. Scampering to my feet as well, my anxious eyes fired about, searching for our man in white I soon found him by the circle of burning cars from before. Deck in hand, the cards rapidly flew to the edge of the one behind it until nearing the end, where two ran perpendicular to the other fifty, directly before he held it in his hands. It almost looked like a long sword…

Outstretching a finger, I assumed he was talking smack as he indicated me. It was a safe bet, and I like to think he thought I’d have a clever one liner depending on the shot he took. Glancing to Aug, he shrugged me to go forward to which I nodded. Starting as slow, calculated steps swiftly turned into a full blown charge as I drew my hollowed out cylindrical weapon. Equilibrium shot, it was an awkward run but even between that and my blurry eyes I could see Abra pull back his blade in preparation for a stab. Smirking to myself, I drew my blowgun up ready to bat it away, but as soon as he lunged and I swatted, the man vanished.

Reflexively, my feet pushed off to the side but not before feeling the mother of all papercuts slice my hip open. I heard that scream, blinding me as my eyes clammed automatically to the agony. The blazing heat of the burning cars guided me between them, but it was ultimately a boot that kicked me back into the middle. The fall scraped my right shoulder as I turned, not risking further injury to my left arm, but I somehow bounced back up, exhausted as I was. Adrenaline and fatigue were fighting as hard as Abra and I apparently.

Mockingly, the magician spread his arms when I faced him, but when I drew a dart he was gone yet again. Ringing dulled, I could hear him like I was underwater.

“You’re all special effects, ya know that Hollywood?”

I swung my gun in a wild 180, but his voice picked right back up behind me again.

“Nothing without your stunt devil!”

I tried again, but this time my foot snapped behind me as I spun, connecting with gut and knocking the air out of my foe. Jumping around, I swung my gold-painted tube where he was but it only met the air. Grinding my teeth, I saw him catching his breath a short distance away.

“Not bad, not bad,” Airless chuckles escaped him as I charged. Back turned, I didn’t see that his mask was off until I was almost upon him. Ducking my body for a tackle, my shoulders pressed forward as he whirled around, clutching a grenade in one hand, pin in the other, “But I still want my boom!”

Eyes suddenly as wide as the moon, my priorities shot immediately from ‘take him down’ to ‘grab the lever!’. Fist coming in low, my hands fired down to intercept narrowly seizing the lever before I fell on a would be live grenade that pounded into my stomach. I was sweating from more than the heat, but at the speed my mind was flying I kicked off the pavement, hearing the cardblade cut into concrete.

“And here I thought you wanted to end with a bang!”

“And here I thought you wanted to disappear, Magician.”

Our faces were covered, but we probably exchanged smirks, his presumably widening when I tried taking the bomb away from my chest, only to stretch my shirt along with it.

“To be fair, you do look like you could be a suicide bomber!”

Glaring as I tugged again to no avail, a growl left my lungs. “Funny you say suicide,” I spat, examining the adhesive gluing it to my clothes, “It’s your genade.”

“Murder then?”

“No, still suicide.” My eyes were burning finding him again, one hand clenched on the bomb’s lever and the other gripping my blowgun, “Just yours.”

Scoffing, he rushed me, blade raised as he slashed it down at me, but he quickly found it deflected as my tube struck the flat of his weapon. Knocking it aside as I stepped in, my other elbow snapped out, bone pounding against his ribs. Quick as I could, I tried stabbing my weapon at him to follow up but a rush of smoke teleported him away. Seeing how that usually ended poorly for me, I broke into a sprint, lifting my hockey mask and sticking my weapon in my mouth like a dog with a bone before whipping one of my final dart out of my sash.

Rapidly running out of room, I felt the thin needle as I spun around, watching a card zoom by and smash into a blazing car, sparks flying from the impact and riddling me in burns. Wincing, Abra took one look at me and laughed, teleporting three inches away before I could even redraw my blowgun. Stabbing at him with the needle, he caught my wrist and yanked me forward, smashing the flat of his blade against my back. My legs buckled and I stuck the ground on my hands and knees, but a second shot to my spine brought me all the way down, yelping as my gashes scraped the rough parking lot, gun clanking and rolling away from me. Both my hands were wrapped around the grenade at this point, shaking as they struggled to hang on through the pain. A quiet snap resounded under me and slowly I drew one away, planting my open palm on the ground to force myself up. Barely three inches up off the ground, another bash of agony knocked me back down, the grotesk pop of my shoulder penetrated my hearing as it was stomped down on, reeling instinctively as I automatically released the lever, snapping my hand to the pulsing joint.

“Seven seconds Hollywood! Make ‘um count!”

Soaked with sweat, I didn’t even have the ability to form any decent last words, excruciating noises being the only thing to fly out of my mouth whenever it opened. It took me four of those seconds to get back to my knees, and another two to get to a crouching position, panting heavily as my body shook.

“I know it’s cooler if you don’t look, but I want to see this!”

About twenty feet away from me, he saw me flip him the bird first.

He scoffed.

...And then realized that seven seconds beyond passed by now.

“What the hell?”

“It’s called a dud, you bitch.”

I like to think the look on his face would’ve been priceless. The closest he came to responding was a growl, whipping his sword behind himself as he charged.

Feebly, I grinned, lazy eyes soaking in my surroundings finally seeing an advantage in all the flames. They surrounded us entirely, and each fire cast us with a massive, flickering shadow. My eyes locked on the dozen beneath Abra as his feet pounded across the pavement, drawing back for a rage fueled stab. Carefully, I slid the shirt off my back trying not to disrupt any injuries, hand finding the grenade once again when it was fully off my body. My feet crouched in preparation to leap away, but as soon as Abra was within range he teleported away. A knowing grin snapped on my exhausted face as a set of shadows appeared behind me, taking an instant quick step to the side as I shot out my shirt like a red flag to a bull horn. The blade of cards pierced it like butter as I ripped the fabric back, yanking it all the way up to his shoulder.

“Disappear.”

A wild slash cut over me as I ducked, slapping my thumb down where a pin once was, replaced by the broken tip of a blowdart. Time seemed to slow as we watched it clink on the ground, bouncing effortlessly and leaving a live grenade wrapped around Abra. Absolute horror ensnared his soul like a bear trap as the dire level of the situation burst into reality, panicking to get it off. Even if he teleported he’d bring it with him and his time was evaporating away. Not quite wanting to see how it ended, I turned tail and ran, my weak feet barely pushing me forward.

They pushed off once.

Twice.

And with the third, I looked over my shoulder, veering behind a burning car.

By some miracle he managed to get the shirt off his arm, flinging it into the air and teleporting in the nick of time, yet lacking the ability to get the appropriate distance away. My work uniform turned into a blazing fireball in an instant, only to be shred apart just as rapidly as fragmentation ripped through the air. Abra, at the nine feet he was able to manage, was thrown into the air by the blast itself before shrapnel sped across the air like shotgun pellets. Blood splattered from his body as it was riddled in holes, streaming from his limbs and torso, one even having grazed his neck. The magician couldn’t even make a sound before his launch ended suddenly, the back of his head bashing into car, hair igniting as gore trickled out the back of it.

Catching my own breath in quivers, I slowly dragged myself out of my cover, staggering to my feet as the inferno began spreading, licking at his flesh and set on devouring him alive.

“Hollywood okay!”

Heart thumping as I pushed myself forward, I could hear the hyper pitter patter of my ally as he he raced to me, wrapping his soaked arms around me in excitement. His shirt was equally wet as it pressed against mine in his tight hug, only he wasn’t stained in sweat. I’m guessing his sword fight ended pretty decisively.

I took another step forward, unable to look him in the eyes.

“I have to get Abra.”

“Abra bad.”

Another.

“I know Aug.”

“Need die.”

My voice was almost mute. “I know Aug.”

Confused, my scarred ally cut me off on the spot, ignoring the searing heat around us as he cocked his head to the side. “Why get?”

“Because I can’t just let someone die,” I pushed him, but he barely moved from my exhausted muscles. “Please move.”

His emerald eyes wandered as a rare frown tugged his smile down. “No.”

“August,” My eyes slowly drifted to the fully engulfed Abra, rapidly running out of time to be saved. “Please.”

Something catching his eye, he slowly bent down.

“Hollywood no look.” A soft hand touched my shoulder once he stood up, but as I looked him in his apologetic eyes a sharp pain entered my hip. Blinking as exhaustion depleted the last little bit of energy I had, I watched as August withdrew my broken needle, a drop of my blood on the tip. Lacking any further fight as my eyelids grew heavier than I could hold up and my legs quaked, having to sit down before they gave out from under me.

Eyes once full of glee were now averted from me as he backed away, nearing Abra.

“August sorry…”

Lying down, my breathing slowed as the sedative was pumped through my body. Eyes fully shut and unable to open back up, everything seemed to grow silent around me as my body numbed. Unable to stay awake any longer, my limbs fell limp beside me.

It was the cue August was waiting for, but I wished he waited a second longer.

A horrendous snap echoed in my mind, the final moment before I plummeted into deep sleep.

Matthew Murphy
06-10-2014, 07:43 PM
Both of you guys wrote well that I don't know who to decide. I think I'll pass to the others to vote. ;~;

acutelatios
06-11-2014, 12:45 AM
Noooo~don't do that, you'll need to support which one you liked best cause any vote counts~nyaaaaa~

Anyways~I'll read them both at some point, but I'll wish you two luck~

Aquila
06-11-2014, 10:00 AM
I will say this in this as well as having said this on skype, my only problem with Crank's story is that he didn't put in Funkfreed or Franco. Besides that, beautifully made, can't wait to see if I can get a vote before the week is up.

Ken_Rou
06-11-2014, 07:39 PM
Alright, I have to be honest here.

Crank's entry was a LOT easier to read(though I'm still confised why you split them into two sections).
The pace of his story was good and the entry itself was really "colorful" if you know what I mean.

Ultimately, I have to vote for Crank. Good job to the both of you.

Aquila
06-17-2014, 08:29 PM
not even one vote, pity... Oh well, nice crushing defeat for me, great victory for you Crank hahahaha. Fun battle, guess I bit off more than I could chew. Well maybe next time hm? HAHAHAHA

Crank
06-17-2014, 09:28 PM
Thank you for everyone who read our stories and voted! I had a lot of fun creating my story and greatly appreciate all the support you showed me!

Ken, in answer to your confusion I divided it up due to the first one being more of a prologue to the story than anything else, but then being the narcissist I am, I just wound up naming them both.

Trip 6, don't take it hard on yourself or anything, it's just because I've been doing this for a few(?) years now. You're going to more than catch up to me as you continue to get deeper in this, and you'll pick things up along the way to add to your style and develop it. I expect a proper curb stomp from you one day!

Also I'm 20, which kinda helps.

Matthew Murphy
06-19-2014, 10:34 PM
OMG! This is the result of challenging Moderators! Never challenge them...

Aquila
06-19-2014, 10:41 PM
Hey Ken_Rou tied with Shadowkirby, I'm not giving up just cause of this.

acutelatios
06-20-2014, 03:50 AM
OMG! This is the result of challenging Moderators! Never challenge them...

*looks up at Crank, then looks at herself*
Pretty sure Hewitt and myself are the mods around here deary~XD

I think the term you're looking for is a veteran; he's been doing this for a while now after all~
o w o

Anyways, great battle guys~ya both deserve a cookie~
*gives both Asmodeus and Crank a cookie*
o w o