[spoiler=][wRHG Tournament]:
The world seemed to warp. Nothing appeared to be real, and what had transpired seemed to flash in hazy memories that did not corroborate with the gladiators. Bl.An.C. clutched at his head, flashes of torment stinging his heart and soul. Memories of a collapsing castle, the grotesque tongue of a beast that lasted for just mere moments. Memories of his mind collapsing to nothing. And then they wavered, swapping in and out with his triumph against the very same beast. He forced them out of his mind, wearily opening his eyes in a bid for anything to distract him from the onslaught of thoughts.

He could see venox, the hand beast, but not bust. Questioning the missing gladiator only assailed him with another memory of blowing the other’s head off.

This isn’t something I would do!, He told himself firmly, /[whatever it is, cast it aside!

He turned sharply to Venox. The bat creature was faring no better than he was, seemingly assailed with his own demons of the mind. If there was anything he could take solace in, it was that he was not alone in the matter.

Disappointing.

He jolted at the sudden voice, scrambling to his feet for the source of it. Instead, he found himself staring to the face of another man, familiar in appearance.

“I see we are all having fun,” the man grinned.

“Statement: the...host,” the android said simply, feeling a creeping sense of anger.

“Not the host,” he corrected, “a host. Thirteen...at your service.”

A fist was swing, and Thirteen deftly stepped back to avoid it.

“Children should not throw tantrums,” he tutted, “I’m merely here to offer assistance...a rather rude welcome for that don’t you think?”

There was a period of hesitance.

“What do you have to offer?”

“Why, that depends on what you ask, my dear misguided friend.”[/spoiler]

General information: Free form roleplay, as with the previous. Do what your character would have done.

General guidelines to follow are as follows

No puppetting, or control of other people's characters.

No godmodding, that is deliberately making a closed ended action against someone without allowing the other to properly react rather than simply 'attempting' an action. This also goes for people who unfairly allow their character to be overly capable, such as dodging several attacks in a row or being smarter than they rightly should be.

"I wish assistance out of your plot," Bl.An.C. said tersely. His eyes never faltered. This was Thirteen, the previous master of his nightmare, never to the trusted

Venox lay on the ground, crumpled in his own wings. He recognized Thirteen instantly. The environment warped and buckled around him, trying to distract him from reality, but it failed.

"Assistance?" Venox snapped bitterly, his eyes narrowed in distrust. "I'm not so sure you know the meaning of the word."

He closed his eyes, keeping one open just a little, focused on Thirteen. So there had been more than one Host mixed up in this. How interesting.

Thirteen tapped his foot on the ground, remembering that he had appeared in each of the two's...introductory game by Seventeen's whim, making him the sole antagonist in their eyes. Not a very polite gesture from his colleague, he thought, but then, not a terrible role to play either.

"Well, letting you out is simple and easy however..."

He spread his palms out with an exaggerated shrug.

"Why should I do it? You can leave perfectly unscathed either way...if you are the last one alive, of course."

"Query: And what is the purpose of this?" Bl.An.C. said, a plasma gun manifested on his right arm and he pointed it at Seventeen's face threateningly. The pseudo-android's sensors only pick up four life signs. "..and where is L.L. Bust?"

Quote from ErrorBlender

"Query: And what is the purpose of this?" Bl.An.C. said, a plasma gun manifested on his right arm and he pointed it at Seventeen's face threateningly. The pseudo-android's sensors only pick up four life signs. "..and where is L.L. Bust?"

## “a host. Thirteen...at your service.” Best reading, Blender. Best reading.

## Also, I'm not posting yet because there isn't really anything Handy can do. I'll just post his current state, though.


Handyman was standing perfectly still, teeth as calm as the rest of his body. Though he seemed entirely undisturbed by what was going on, in truth his mind was slowly returning to a conscious state, far slower than anyone else's. Until it fully returned, which could happen any time from a few mere minutes to possible hours, Handy was lifeless.

Venox remained silent as the events took place. Handyman seemed in a sort of slow recovery state, so he wasn't important for now. The android had its weapon in the face of Thirteen. That wasn't very wise. He hoped no one was going to blow anything...or anyone... up. The situation was tense enough already.

Watching and waiting seemed to be the best way to go. The android had asked a good question though...where was the bounty hunter?

"Purpose?"

Thirteen cocked his head to one side, as if confused, "why, no purpose other than for the entertainment of your audiences of course. You came to the system, fighting, maiming and killing your foes for money, glory, or whatever self righteous reasons you have...this tournament is no more than an extension of it."

There was a pause as his lips parted to a nasty grin.

"And Bust? The last I saw he was decapitated by that very same gun you point at me. Watch where you fire, now."

Cooper knew the reason for his coming here. It was a pastime that turned into a mission to destroy the system before it was abused. He couldn't counter Thirteen's statement in any way due to the danger of revealing the truth to a possible arm of John Mason. However, he charged the plasma gun either way.

"Statement: I'm watching."

Every minute or so, a click rang out throughout the place. The creature started to come back alive, yet very slowly.

Venox cocked his head slightly, keeping careful watch on Handyman. The news that Bust had been killed by the android was mildly surprising. Mild, because anything could happen in this messed-up competition.

"When in this game, everyone dies...when in this game, everyone dies..." Venox began to whisper to himself.

He couldn't think for a moment he was going to survive in an all-out dispute between him, the android, or even Thirteen. But if he did, there would have to be something different in all the competition's participants. No one could walk away from something like this unscathed.

"No protest? Perfectly fine with having been the first person to pulp another's head? Well, alright then."

Thirteen sighed, twirling a bit of hair from his fringe. Noone was acting in despair. Rather it was as if it was a typical shopping trip for those two, and it all felt terribly boring to him. Did he somehow manage to abduct three sufferers of some apathetic mood disorder?

"Time is a-ticking, boys. That beast over there is going to get hungry, and you know what that means. If you want me to leave you all alone with him, that's fine by me too."

Bl.An.C. hesitated and nearly dropped his arm but kept it there.

"Statement: I've done worse than a headshot," he said plainly. "Query: Who are you people?"

As if by some coincidence, when the word "beast" was dropped by Thirteen, the creature's head fell limp. Its bulk slapped against the top of the thing's faux ribcage, a few of the 'ribs' knocked out of place slightly, though they remained rigid and stuck in whatever place they were shoved. All the tiny minds of its body started to reclaim themselves once more, having started at the area where they were most prominent, the head, so they could flow back together into one mind. Or to be more precise, into a vessel ready for a mind.

When it was placed in the round, it was starving, and eventually fed off Bl.An.C. Though, as it was clear to see, Bl.An.C was up and conscious, his stolen back from the creature's grasp. Once more was it hungry.

The chattering of teeth was constant now. Though it seemed like its head was lax, it had started to take stock of every creature in the room, where echoes from its teeth bounced off complex moving structures all engaged with each other. It felt the desire to fill itself once more, but for now it remained frozen to its spot.

Wings curled tight against his sides, Venox looked right at Thirteen.

"I-If you w-were to help us...h-how would you do it?" the bat asked, trying to quell the desperation he felt within.