wRHG Tournament Preliminary Round: IT'S OVER. ONE. THOUSAND.

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The Organization
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Jun 22, 2013 12:23 AM #1014960

Post #2
***Looks long but most of it is dialogue***
"Wow!" exclaimed Acel from her high vantage point.

Although, Acel could have finished them off by now, the thugs were still getting slaughtered by the other Gladiators. Eventually, they would all be finished and the actual tournament could begin. Despite moving so fast, Acel was patient and was more concerned with seeing what the other fighters could do rather than showing off.

"It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles; if you do not know your enemies but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one; if you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperiled in every single battle." she said to herself, recalling the adage of one of her favorite authors.

"Sun Tzu, a tatical mastermind."

Startled by the voice behind her, Acel quickly turned around. Walking toward her was a young man with piercing green eyes. He couldn't be more than 20, and as far as Acel was concerned, he seemed to be an ordinary human.

"How long have you been standing there," she asked, slightly worried that she didn't sense him at all beforehand.

"I just got here," he responded; his voice sounded bored noted Acel.

"Cecelia Q. Graves, Vicar 04 of The Organization at your service."

"I'm Alphonse, and I must admit I have never heard of this Organization." he responded with a smile.

Acel stood up and shook the kid's hand. She could tell that he was someone important and that if she wanted to advance the interests of the Organization in Stickpage, contacts would be very important.

"We are new to Stickpage and we have big plans for it," she said enthusiastically.

"Such as?" he asked with a hint of suspicion.

"That's all hush hush right now, you know how it is," joked Acel, "You don't seem like a fighter Alphonse, why are you here?"

Alphonse looked down below at the fighters and pointed at a young brunette swinging a bat at the thugs, sending them flying.

"That one's mine," He responded, a slight smile appeared on his face.

"Sister?"

"Kinda."

"She's got some strange powers. Definitely, not some ordinary kid." added Acel.

"You could say the same about the other Gladiators, especially you," he responded.

"Oh?"

"How did you get up here so fast? Teleportation? Magic?"

Acel winked at him.

"Trade secret."

Azure
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Jun 22, 2013 6:02 AM #1015149

Post #1

I looked left, then right, then back again as the man faded back into the crowd. Men of varying sizes stood looking at me expectantly. All of them big, all of them angry, and all of them so very, very human. I extend my right hand and summon my blade, the crystalline blade shimmering slightly as it enters reality. Just like me, it craved to carve into the flesh of these foolish men, and begin harvesting souls. "Lets see how many fucktards I can kill before I break a sweat. My guess? A few hundred..." I chuckle darkly, and before they can begin to make a move, I rush forward.

As I reach the first man, I pull my sword back in what would look like a horizontal slash, then follow it around in a complete reverse slash, the back of the blade striking at least five in the head. Through the boosted confusion, I begin to stab left and right, widening the gap around myself. These shitty goons didn't stand half a snowball's chance in hell at the rate they were dropping. Taking a moment to pause and leap back, I surveyed my kill count. It seemed my barrage had simply left me with seventeen dead. I check my forehead. Still no sweat.

"Looks like I'm winning the bet so far. Hope your employer didn't pay much; I mean, if you're paying for shit, doesn't matter if that shit shines or not. Shit is shit, and you put the hit in shit."

Post #2

The initial shock of having a child be their opponent, as well as the fact he was a murderous psychopath, broke from the grunts, and they began to surge forward. I grin and begin surging dark energy into my hands, it rising like black flames. They were like lambs lining up to the slaughter. "Call me Old McDonald then..." I whisper to myself with a laugh, before slicing off the first guy's head. As his body begins falling, I leap to it and jump off like a stepping stone, bringing my blad smashing down to cleave a man in half and send a shockwave to knock others off their feet. I grabbed the leg of one, and began to swing him around like a club, before throwing his limp body into the rafters. "You all aren't even putting up a bit of a challenge!"

One of the idiots behind me got the brilliant idea to pull out a pistol and fire into my shoulder. It took a moment before the pain actually reached into my mind. Once it did, everything began to turn red, and turned around slowly. The asshole was still on the ground, and as my eyes reached his, he began to tremble in fear at the pure hatred I was radiating. My blade penetrated directly through his heart in seconds, holding him into the ground, and the energy coalescing in my palms seemed to flair up even stronger. Not holding back a bit, I smashed my fist (and his face) into the ground so hard his skull literally exploded, and a well made dent was left behind, nearly half a foot deep. As I pulled my hand up from the gore filled hole, I looked to the others, who were circled around me. When I spoke in this body's husky voice, it was as if the very essence of death itself had possessed my words. "Which. Fucking. Piece. Of. Shit. Wants. To fucking die. Next?"

The pussy assed bitches fled, and I was left in a pissy mood surrounded by roughly fifty or so corpses. What a lame shindig. At that moment, something rolled into my eye. I pressed my hand to my forehead... and when it came back, it was sweat.

"FUCKING COCK MUNCHERS! I LOST THE GODDAMN BET!"

Preliminary Complete

Shadowkirby
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Jun 22, 2013 7:42 AM #1015213

Post #2

The slain bodies are lying across the concrete floor, some are in puddle of their own blood, some unconscious, and some are half-way rotting corpses. Their tools are shown broken and corroded, scattered wood pieces and shattered chains. As much as how tough they put up against him, they are no match for Todesberührung's power. They gave them their all, and wasted it.

Todesberührung is seen knocking away other men who are beating him senseless with bats and crowbars. One managed to climb onto his back and repeatedly stab him with a chef's knife against the head, while others attempt to restrain him to the ground. All these efforts have been wasted as the fearless undead fought back against the strength in numbers. He lifts himself up as he is carrying a few on top of him, reaches for the one who's stabbing him, and thrusts him against an iron beam. He swings his right arm to one thug's face, quickly dissolving his face from skin to bone to ash as he screams in fear and pain. His remaining body collapse to the floor while the neck is slowly erodes.

He then swings his arm back to knock away the other goons, leaving him some more room to roam and fight. He then frees his left arm by shaking off those who are trying to pull him down, then socks right at the poor soul's face standing behind him; you can hear his skull crack and teeth shattered from the heavy impact of the undead's fist and massive strength against the ruffian's thick head. Blood has spurt out of his mouth, nose and eyes, and falls backwards to the floor, lying there to drown in his own blood and teeth.

These criminals keeps on coming as he fought off one goon after another, but despite the odds, Todesberührung has not worn himself out, not even a sweat to break from his dead skin. He kept on fighting, and won't stop until hopefully the raid will cease.

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Jun 22, 2013 10:00 AM #1015273

Post #1

"...oh," Corvon's jaw dropped as he saw the army of hired hands rush at the group of participants, bearing arms of anything from fisticuffs to iron pipes. How many were there? A hundred? Five? More? He felt a cold shudder down his spine. What did this man expect from them? A mass slaughter?

"Kalena..." he turned around to face his companion with a quivering voice, almost worried that they could simply be swarmed by the vast number of enemies. Yet, Kalena's expression was a blank one, unmoved by the army that faced her. How she managed it, he did not know.

"Corvon. Stay still," Kalena murmured as she sunk her sword into the warehouse ground, her voice soft enough that he could barely hear it under the din of fighting and screaming.

"Eh?" Corvon mustered, but before he could even continue with another question, he lurched as the earth shook under him , before springing forward in a giant pillar that forced his body upward and onto the metallic walkways. He felt his stomach lurch from the sudden rise in heights, but managed to stumble onto the walkways, too concerned with withholding his breakfast than to wonder what had just transpired. He saw figures of other people on the same walkways, and gave a weak wave of greeting, unsure of why he even bothered.

Back down on the ground, Kalena willed the earth to envelop her blade, coating it with a layer of dirt and stone, essentially turning its razor sharp edges blunt and non-lethal. It would still hurt, of course, but for the mindless fools who would stoop low to violence for the sake of money, it was an appropriate punishment. Perhaps one might question her unnatural calmness at this point, but for a soldier who had seen through countless of battles, a skirmish with untrained men could may as well be a training session, albeit a somewhat more dangerous one.

Chamel
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Jun 22, 2013 4:36 PM #1015496

#Post 3

3 (Click to Show)

-Chance's suit was crusted in the blood of the thugs. Several bodies now lay at his feet; some headless, some with various puncture wounds from their own varying weapons, there were even some unrecognizable limbs scattered here and there. Pools of blood surrounded the many carcasses, and the stench of death hung on the air heavily.
-Chance himself stood in the midst of one of the blood pools, soft ripples swirling due to some unseen force. The number of thugs had dwindled but there were still many to fight. Chance could only continue his hysterical cackle as more and more thugs tried their luck with him.
-"Come now boys! You don't learn very well do you?!" He yelled. "You would think you would learn by now that you will not win!"
-That warped laughter burst its way through his lips once more. His posture was hunched and sloppy; a crazed look of hysteria apparent in his eyes. No matter how deranged and unstable he looked though, the attackers did not stall. Chance grew excited when a pack of three particularly large thugs broke through the crowd and presented themselves. One held a large hammer; another weilded a dual set of short swords that he spun magnificently; and the last one held a sort of mace-like weapon.
-"Ooh! Big boy toys!" Chance clapped his hands like a little child, his excitement for blood growing rapidly.
-The largest of the three, the one with the hammer, strode forward and stood right in front of Chance. The man's chest was eye level with the red-haired man, but size didn't matter in this situation. A look of pure giddiness was seen in Chance's eyes as he stood up on his toes, turning his head up to look at his larger opponent.
-"Care to dance, mate?" He chuckled. The thug's eye twitched slightly, and he snapped his fingers. He motioned for his "friends" to draw nearer, completely surrounding Chance with their massive frames.
-"Oh my! Seems like I'm dead..." Chance pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle as the man with the hammer choked in annoyance. With a grunt, the blunt weapon was raised high over the man's head.
-"Ooh! What fun!" Chance giggled. He blew a soft kiss to the man, which only increased the thug's annoyance.
-The large man brought the hammer down quickly, but uncontrollably. Chance merely sidestepped the attack and chuckled as it cracked the hard, concrete ground. The attack hadn't finished however. The hammer was swung to the side, aimed right at Chance's face. This time, the red-haired man ducked and used one hand to go into the "Bridge" poition; his other hand was placed neatly in his trouser pocket.
-"You missed." He sang happily. Using the force of the position, Chance kicked up with his legs. One foot hit the man square in the jaw, causing his head to snap back; the following leg wrapped itself around the man's neck. With a slight chortle, Chance brought both legs around the giant thug's neck and pulled back.
-The large thug could not react fast enough to what was happening. Chance pulled with all his might and sent the thug flying into one of his friends, the one with the mace to be precise. The pair went rolling away, both unconcious from the force of hitting the ground
-"My my, That was almost anti-climatic." Chance chuckled as his feet hit the ground softly and gracefully. He stood up and wiped his suit free if dust, scattering pieces of dried blood onto the ground.
-"Now, is it just you, mate?" The speech was directed to the remaing thug with the two short swords. The large man merely responded with a grunt as he lowered himself into a fighting stance.
-"What a shame. It seems I'll have to finish up here rather soon..." Chance pouted. He sniffed the air; the scent of blood was everywhere, and it was driving Chance mad.
-"But no matter. That shouldn't be a problem." His deranged laughter had returned, and a short spark of fear found it's way to the sword-weilding thug. Chance brought his other hand out of his pocket and stood up straight, his eyes wild and lusting for blood.
-"Let's go insane."

**I apologize for how long it is. I'm having a rather grand time writing this.**

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Jun 22, 2013 4:43 PM #1015500

Post #1

Pencillum heard the door click locked behind the contestants. Two thousand brute thugs, wielding all kinds of knives, swords, and clubs, charged at him. He smirked.

"Two thousand thugs may be enough to stop me, but a locked door surely isn't."

He turned and flicked a few pencils at the door, and a large hole was created. He leaped through the hole and began to snipe at the thugs through the hole, throwing pencil after pencil at them. Thug after thug fell. Meanwhile, Pencillum observed the others fighting. Nearly half of the two thousand thugs were already down.

"Interesting..." he murmured, watching the contestants.

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Jun 22, 2013 5:07 PM #1015514

Post #2

The initial wave that rushed him was dispatched with non-lethal force, and their numbers were replaced threefold. Zero used the first five to practice the CQC he had been taught by Carson a few days prior. It wasn't often that Zero lodged at the base the F.B.I intended to be his housing, but when he did Carson wasted little time on matters like sleep. With one thug's swing Zero dodged to the left, as he planted his feet, another thug lunged at him with a knife. Not being planted enough to dodge again Zero deflected the blow, managing to grab hold of the man's wrist as well. He twisted his arm into an outstretched position and delivered a blow directly to his elbow causing the bones to break. The poor thug wailed in agony as Zero swung him around by that same arm and collided his body with two more, knocking them to the ground.

Using the momentum he was given, Zero surrounded himself in a cyclone of wind which propelled him up to the walkway above while lifting and flinging the remaining twelve thugs under him into the air and around the warehouse. He landed on the walkway and noticed some of the other gladiators were present here as well. He held out his arms and, to his surprise, his Confetti-Kitty landed in his hands; it purred and wrapped itself around his neck like a white, fluffy, cloud of a scarf. Though overwhelmed with joy to see his kitty again he walked forward and lifted a fellow gladiator off the ground while waving to the others across the walkway.

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Jun 22, 2013 5:42 PM #1015542

Post #3

"Right straight - left hook", Luther mumbled to himself, "right knee". Luther's kneecap smacked against a tall thug's nose, causing the bone in the thug's nose to break and pierce his own brain. The thug arms fell flat next to his body and he straightened his back, falling backwards, landing in a puddle of his own blood.
The seemingly endless flow of thug's seemed to lose it's strength. Luther didn't know how many thug's he had killed, his fists dripped of blood and his combat boots practically bathed in blood.
Next to Luther, the red-haired man was still fighting. The man was crazed, covered in blood and intestines. The man was holding a decapitated head in his left hand, pretending to have conversation with it. A sudden feeling of nausea hit Luther, his stomach cramps and empties itself on the corpse of a disemboweled thug.
Luther looked up and stared right into a barrel of a thug's revolver. Luther could see the bullet inside the barrel, ready to be fired. "Sweet dreams sport!" the thug sneered. Luther could see the rotation of the barrel and knew this would be the last thing he'd see.
A pencil flew through the air and hit the thug with the revolver in his throat. Gurgling the thug fell on his knees grabbing his throat with his right hand and still aiming the revolver on Luther. He pulled the trigger. Luther closed his eyes, he heard the sound of the shot which meant he wasn't dead. He realized the bullet only hit his shoulder, causing the bullet to dig one inch deep into Luther's thick skin.
"Are you alright?" a man stood behind a hole in the Warehouse's entrance doors.
Luther saw the man was holding a few pencils, the man looked kind of goofy with his big glasses and skinny posture, but somehow Luther felt sympathy towards the man. "Thanks for saving me, I owe you!", Luther shouted
Luther got up from his knees and looked at the thug with the revolver who was drowning in his own blood. "better luck next time..." Luther mumbled.
The bullet stuck in Luther's skin started to cause an agonising pain.
"Arghhh, cover me! I'm coming to you!", Luther shouted towards the man holding the pencils.
With his right hand covering his shoulder Luther ran towards the hole in the door and leaped through.

Anywho
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Jun 22, 2013 8:36 PM #1015662

**@Organization, PM me first so I can at least know if you’re going to puppet him.**
Post #3

Alphonse smirked then focused back on the battle below them,
"That so? Well, secrets are meant to be revealed, and I'm sure I'll discover yours sooner or later." That came out more like a threat but Alphonse didn't bother to correct himself. He looked over to see even more people joining them on the walkway, he sighed and leaned onto the railing.

“Lets just have a party at this rate.”

-----------
Ned pinched her nose as the smell of dead grew stronger. She began to wonder how long they had been fighting. Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t notice a brute approaching behind her.

He pushed her over causing her weapon to fly out of her grip. She managed to catch herself in her fall but a piece of glass was still able to lodge itself into her thigh. Her enemy raised the metal pipe aiming to smash in the girl’s head, she quickly rolled to the side avoiding it. The echo of the iupipe hitting the concrete rang in her ears. The maid, still shocked, stumbled back onto her feet and attempted to limp over to get the bottle only to be stopped in her tracks by a pipe hitting her back.

She wavered for a moment before falling over, a satisfied smirk appeared on the thug’s face. Lifting his weapon, he prepared to end her life in one final strike but stopped in mid swing as the girl plunged a shiv deep into his leg. The brute staggered back but by the time he was able to regain his posture Ned had taken up a 2x4. She whipped it across the side of the thug’s head breaking the plank in half in the process. With a satisfying crack, the burly man fell to his knees and onto the ground.

She sighed and tossed aside the broken slab of wood, "Done"

End of preliminary

Shadowkirby
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Jun 22, 2013 11:28 PM #1015735

Post #3

The fatality numbers continues to rise as he persist to slay countless brutes the host is throwing at Todesberührung. One thug plummets a machete onto his chest, then pushes him down to the cement. Many others came and held down his legs and arms, preventing the restless undead to move. In front of Todesberührung is a brawny thug lifting a heavy sledgehammer onto his shoulders; the weight of the hammer slows down his speed as he walks, but his footsteps resemble Giant's footsteps, every step he takes shook the ground a bit as he grew closer.

The thug is wearing a sleeveless jean jacket with gray and black striped t-shirt underneath with the sleeves torn by the growth of his muscles, which are covered with various vulgar tattoos. Long, baggy pants that slowly sags down with every step, and black leather boots with dust and dirt stains. He has no hair, and seems to be part of a White Supremacist group somewhere outside the warehouse, evidence showing the small tattoo of a Swastika on his left hand. From the looks of him, he seems to have done terrible crimes before showing his sinister face in this place, and was, obviously, paid to wreck havoc against the participants in the tournament.

He gives a wicked grin and spat onto Todesberührung's stabbed chest, showing his disgust and hatred towards him; though to be fair, he would be doing that to every participant here. He took a few steps back to gain more room and momentum to swing his mighty weapon upon the undead's head. He grips onto the wooden handle, making sure he gets a tight one so he won't be making any mistakes while striking, and begins to lift. The weight of the metal head builds up enough force and momentum to give a devastating blow, then strikes down onto Todesberührung's head. It splattered and gushed around him, some onto other thugs who are watching, a gruesome sight it was. The crowd cheered at the notorious criminal as he waves back to his comrades, showing the pride and respect he was given.

The crowd dispersed and began attacking the other participants as the burly one sits down and rests, since the hammer has taken much energy from him. He'd watched the poor fools trying to fight against the crowd of cutthroats and killers, smiling at their desperation to live. Unbeknownst to him, a shadow gradually looms over his bald head. Finally realizing the shadow, he turns and his expression changed to fear as he gazed upon Todesberührung in one peace, except the blade sticking in his chest before pulling it out. The thug panicked and reaches for his hammer, but the undead caught him off-guard by latching his hand to the back of his head, deteriorating his skin to rotting flesh. The thug screamed in agony as he is slowly eradicating from existence; his bones are but dust, his mind is withering, and organs are failing, and the worst of all, he can feel all of it.

He collapse onto his knees and slowly fades into everlasting oblivion, leaving nothing left of him. The undead has done it, he has completed what the Brown-Coat calls "the Preliminaries."

Chamel
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Jun 23, 2013 12:46 AM #1015772

#Post 4

-Bodies. So many bodies. The empty containers that at one point held life, were now still and beginning to become cold. The thug with the short swords had been decapitated by his own weapons, and in his madness, Chance held a lengthy conversation with the head. But now the red-haired man was starting to come to his senses, his insanity slowly ebbing out of him. Chance clutched his head with a single hand, his back was hunched in agony as his head pounded.
-"I should really be more careful..." He chuckled slightly, his amusement slipping when a shock of pain blazed through his head. The thugs that had attacked him were now dead on the ground, or so he thought.
-A single thug rose from the ground slowly. In his hand he clutched a metal pipe, his hands barely able to grip the weapon as his hands shook. Chance did not realize that the thug was getting closer, for his headache had dulled most of his senses. Closer and closer the man got, raising the bar high above his head.
-A short cry of pain brought Chance back to his senses, and he turned towards the sound. The thug brought the pipe down quickly and with enough force to bash the head of almost any living thing, but Chance reacted. In an instant, he was surrounded by crimson blood. Either from himself, his fellow gladiators, or the thugs, he did not know. All he did know was that the thick liquid surrounded him, cradling him like a child and protecting him from the assault. The attacking thug yelped in surprise as the pipe was grabbed a hold of by the blood and lifted from the ground. In his frightened state, he clung helplessly to the pipe as it rose higher and higher.
-"I'll finish up with you here, mate. My head is absolutely killing me!" Chance chuckled half-heartedly. He had come to a standing position amidst the blood as it twirled about him. He followed the thug higher into the air, nothing but squeaks of pleas for mercy escaping the terrified man's mouth. Chance's head throbbed and the blood became unstable for a slight second. That second was just enough for the pipe to slip through the grip of the crimson liquid, and it, along with the thug, fell to the ground. The helpless attacker screamed as he fell, but was quickly silenced as he hit the ground with a sickening thud.
-"Ouch... Sorry, mate!" Chance chuckled. The man's body had twisted into an awkward angle, with his leg bent backwards and his arm nearly inverted. The fall was definitely tragic, as it broke both the man's neck and spinal column in one fell swoop.
-More throbbing pain ripped its way through Chance's head and when he clutched at his face, his hand came back covered in his own blood. Blood was dripping from his nose and the corner of his mouth slowly. He had overdone it with all the killing, and now he was suffering. He quickly forced his way to the railing above where several other gladiators were already watching the fight.
-"Oh, hello." He smiled weakly and quickly sat down with his back to a metal support beam. The blood that carried him fell to the ground and rained down on several other gladiators below, but the fight continued. Chance looked rather... murderous in his state. His expensive suit covered in blood, his hair matted from a mix of blood, sweat, and the tears of his victims; and his overall physique seemed rather weak at this point. He didn't care however. He did what he had to do. He closed his eyes halfway and peered down at the ongoing battle, the gladiators were clearly at an advantage. Content washed over him, along with a new wave of pain through his head. He was done fighting for today, so he simply tried to relax and enjoy the show.
-"Gladiators 1, Thugs 0." Was all he chuckled before blacking out.

**PRELIMINARIES ARE COMPLETE FOR CHANCE**

ErrorBlender
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Jun 23, 2013 6:37 AM #1015934

Post #3

The android kept his pace, blasting non-lethal amounts of cyan energy at every goon he could spot while he slammed his electrically empowered fist at every opportunity a thug would get too close. The warehouse was blur of rage and rampage. The android's optics zoomed in and out of view of every gladiator he could see as he pummeled and blasted a goon.

The jade eye picked up a gladiator that was able to punch a hole through a thug's head..."Observation: Surge of strength, wields sword...noted."

Two thugs actually got close enough to attempt a grapple from behind. The wing pack immediately flared on and he twirled in place a several times until the thugs lost their grip. He blasted them with the plasma gun as they flew past several other thugs.

His optic zoomed in another gladiator as he fired, this one had a few thugs on his as well, he was getting stabbed multiple times but nothing yielded blood or even weakened the gladiator. "Observation: This one displays outstanding endurance and physical strength." The gladiator suddenly swings his hand at a brute which then slowly dissolves. "Continuation: Also shows the ability of rapid decay."

A goon screams a battle cry as he charges in, bringing down an actual katana down into the plasma gun.

"Got ya now, tin face!" The man yelled in triumph.

Bl.An.C. opened his palm on his right and charged it up. He gripped the man's face with the Iron Fist and sent surges of electricity through the man's head. The man attempted to yelp in fear but to no avail. He was knocked unconscious or in a coma the next few seconds and dropped to the ground.

The goons were diminishing but it was not that visible, they were all in clumps now, targeting separate gladiators a hundred to one...sometimes more than a hundred. This unequal fight would serve a purpose...but what? These goons should know they stand little to no chance against people who battle each other with powers. Why would they go for it? The android thought to himself as he sent back the plasma gun. A flash of light ended the grip of the katana on his left forearm. The blade fell in a melodious klang. He stood watching the goons around him as he picked up the blade. They carried mundane weapons...they could have carried RPGs or at least AK-47s...What is the host planning?

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Jun 23, 2013 7:09 AM #1015968

Post#4
"Damn! There's too many of em! These guys are like ants!" Rio complained as he was pummeling goons after goons.
"I agree. But I have a plan. Get to an empty spot to charge. This'll be a big one." Rio complied and retreated a bit. Then with a powerful shockwave, Luke charged up with an intense glow. That is, until he was shot through his stomach. The feeling of cooper piercing through your organs isn't exactly a good one. The pain was unbearable, the heat from the wound greatly disturbed Rio's concentration. And that had put his charging on hold.
"Arg! Goddamn son-of-a-bitch!" Rio yelled as he was kneeling down, stopping blood gushing out of the wound. But when he raised his head, a gun barrel was aiming at his eye.
"Goodbye, bitch!" And that was the goon's last words. A cyan blast knocked the thug off his feet and landed behind Lucario.

"Query: Need a hand?" A monotonous voice came from a black android.
"Thanks, mate. Mind covering for me? Need time to perform my last attack." Rio said, hoping to receive his assistance.
"Response: Affirmative." It sounded like music to the brawler's ears.
"Glad you agree. Now GO!" And with the command, Bl.An.C. dashed off, shooting blasts from his plasma cannon and pounding foes with his iron knuckle. Or fist (whatever...). Anyway, despite the continuos pain, Rio managed to mantain his concentration and a tremendous glow could easily be seen among the thugs. Realizing the danger, the goons switched their main target to Lucario, but fended off by the melting plasma blades of the Blast Android.
"Query: Are you done? Observation: I don't think I can fight against this many." said the black android as he was chopping the incoming men. The glow disappeared in an instant and high in the air was Lucario, his hand pointing upwards, his palm open. And on top of him was an ordinary Aura Sphere. Except that it was a lot bigger. And continously expanding.

"Dodge!" yelled Lucario as he was throwing the gigantic ball of energy. Its size was probably equal to a certain hero's attack. The other wRHG saw the attack and immediately moved out of the "danger zone". The same couldn't be said about the thugs, though. However fast they ran, their feeble legs couldn't outrun Luke's attack. And then, there was a loud explosion. The shockwave was so powerful that almost everyone was knocked off their feet, even the ones near the ceiling. And the result, a large amount of thugs were fried even worse than KFC (probably one thousand-ish). Luke dropped down the ground gently, but even that didn't help his body. Drained of his aura, his muscles strained by Rio, just being conscious was a difficult task. Bl.An.C. kindly offered his help with his wing pack and brought Lucario to the netallic walkways near the ceiling. There stood a couple of people who must've been wRHGs. The android put Luke down slowly and gently, then he jumped back down to continue his attacks upon the remaining men, whose numbers must've been a couple hundred, and left behind a wounded, gasping man.
"Hey...How's it going?" greeted Luke to the others before he laid flat on the walkway. The pain from the bullet wound along with the cold seeping into him from the metallic walkway made up a very horrifying experience. "Go get em...mate..." whispered Lucas as he was looking down the battlefield, wishing luck to the others before blacking out.
Preliminary completed.

_Ai_
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Jun 23, 2013 8:17 AM #1016121

Post #1

After the host's speech, the warehouse fell into Chaos. Thugs was chasing other participants, which seems to have a hard time fending them off. Aiman? He was hiding behind a stage, near the entrance of the warehouse. He was planning to escape this place somehow, but...

"Going somewhere, punk?" A voice said behind him.

Gulp. Aiman slowly turned his head and saw a sight he would not like to believe. There were thugs. Many of them. To be exact, about 25.

"Uh...nowhere?" Aiman said in a cracked voice, fear overwhelming him.
"You ain't shitting me, punk!" The front thug, which seems to be the leader, spoke in a voice that seems to be annoyed.

The thug rushed to Aiman, tightening his fist. Aiman was unprepared, and took the full blow of his fist. The force of the fist sent him flying to what it seems to be a pile of wood. Aiman coughed blood, as he slowly stood up. If I don't do something I might just die here, The mage thought. Then, a group of thugs with scars all over their bodies charged themselves on to Aiman. Calming down, the mage changed elements to Fire, and summoned the greatsword.

"Time for a counterattack."

Lobotomizer
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Jun 23, 2013 12:27 PM #1016879

Ｐｏｓｔ　＃２

Kalena ignored the carnage that went about her, only concerning herself with those that decided to approach her. She doesn't wait for them to attack, rushing forward with her blade swinging effortlessly in the air like a dangerous hurricane. the first few that met the attack were too confused, too surprised to even react to the ferocity of her charge. They all fell, knocked into concussion by a blow to the head or blacking out from the pain of having their ribs shatter from the impact of the stone. Once, a thug got behind her, brandishing a giant machete. The swing was only able to tear at the edges of her skirt, and he was just as quickly put down by two nearly simultaneous strikes on the abdomen and head. Her actions were swift, yet graceful. Even as she was beginning to be surrounded it did little to impede her; one well timed dodge meant two men slicing their own bodies instead of their target.

Corvon himself was still reeling, not from having been boosted up, but at the sheer gore that exploded from the encounters. Limbs flew, and blood was splattered across the floor like some grotesque fountain. Death was everywhere, hanging like a thick miasma that suffocated every fiber of his being. It was horrific. He could cover his eyes, but the image of the soaked battlefield was already etched in his mind, haunting him when he did. At last he settled with just focusing on Kalena, somewhat glad that she wasn't blatantly murdering her attackers, and assisted her with well aimed bolts of magic, each enough to knock a grown man off his feet.