Arena City (Main Thread)

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Schradinger, Jan 10, 2015.

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  1. This used to be my city, back before he arrived, before the tyrant decided to turn it into some sick, twisted game for his own amusement. First I was a cop, doing my duty to defend her citizens just like a thousand others. Then I had the accident, and that changed everything. At first, it almost killed me. The uselessness of what I had become. I could barely even get out of bed on my own anymore. I was a wreck. A man with no hope and no desire to live anymore. I had fallen so far in such a short time, I never thought there would be a way to crawl back out. I was wrong though. There was a way, and it came in the form of a scientist and his experimental treatments. They said it would give me back the use of my legs, reverse the paralysis and let me have my life back. They were wrong too. It did so much more than that. Turned me into something far beyond what I had been, what anyone else ever could be. I couldn't go back to the force though, there was too big a risk of exposure. Instead, I enlisted the scientist, a man by the name of Dr Felix Rouse, and set my mind to protecting the city in a different way.

    I became a vigilante, the one thing my old cop self would have hated more than any other. Some punk with skills who thought he could do a better job protecting my city than I could, and now I was that punk. Except I was right. Crime hit an all-time low only a few months in, and it wasn't long before all I had to do was show up every now and then, remind them I was still there. That there was something out there more powerful and scary than the bad guys. Something that would protect the innocent and serve justice to those that the corrupt system spat back onto the street. I was their protector. The guardian angel that watched over them and fought back against the monsters in the dark.

    Then he arrived. Riding in through his portal with all the authority of a man who fancied himself a god. I held back at first, watching and waiting to see what he wanted, but when he started turning police and politicians and people to his side, then slaughtering the ones who dared to stand against him, I couldn't watch any longer. I challenged him. Called him out in front of every one of his new soldiers. He accepted, and we fought. I fought harder than I ever had in my life before, moved faster and hit harder, except that even with my superhuman abilities, there was nothing to hit. He toyed with me, avoiding everything I threw at him with no greater effort than it would take to fight a child. He made a point of humiliating me that day, taking the myth that everyone had either looked up to or been terrified of and turning it into nothing more threatening than a child. He could have won at any point, ended it with a single blow. Eventually he did, and I'm sure they danced over my corpse.

    But the worst part of it all? He brought me back. Like I was of so little concern to him that I could do nothing to interrupt his plans. No more threat than a single ant beneath the boot of a warrior. So now I leave him to his tower and do what I can on the streets of his new city. He doesn't care if I take down a few of his henchmen, send them to the hospital for a few weeks because the jails are always empty now. As long as I don't try and stop his beloved duels, he seems content to sit in his tower and let me do what I do best. Not that it ever makes any difference.

    But I have to try. I don't have it in me to stop being a protector and leave this city to its fate. My city. Not his. Not as long as I'm alive.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Sirens blared as the few good cops left worked valiantly, yet fruitlessly, to stem the tidal wave of crime that had erupted in the wake of the tyrant's arrival and takeover. No one knew what he wanted or why he'd chosen this city, but ever since his offer had been broadcast the city was constantly plunged deeper and deeper into the abyss of lawlessness. The police that had joined the tyrant seemed only interested in protecting the Hub and making sure the duels were uninterrupted, while the politicians took advantage of the chaos to turn against the people they had been elected to serve. Some did it out of self-preservation, allying themselves with the most powerful entity around, while others took genuine pleasure in their new-found lack of checks and balances. The only thing holding the city together was fear. At first, it had been near-total anarchy, but once the metas began to arrive, the natives quickly learned that they were not in charge anymore. The only reason they were still willing to even leave their homes was that they would starve if they didn't. Anyone who didn't report for work wouldn't receive any rations, and while the new police force tried to at least protect the citizens from the metas, they did little to curb the crime of the city itself, and more often than not they were insufficient for the former task as well.

    It was a bad situation, and it was only going to get worse.
     
    • Cat Like Typing Detected Cat Like Typing Detected x 1
  2. The arrival of Aeon was announced by the sound of a thunderclap and a burst of bright light. Standing he was in a circle of blackened grass with small electrical burst appearing around him.

    Well then it appears that Zeriph transporter did its job, but i guess it was a one way ticket.

    Looking around he took stock of the Hub. It wasn't to much different than what his people were desperately trying to take back. That was his reason for coming here after all, he needed the money, the glory, and the artifacts to take back their home. He went to work checking his armor systems, then moved to his weapons and gear. Finishing that he looked around attempting to find someone to get information from.
     
  3. The security response to the new potential threat was quick, clean, and well-practiced as the new arrival was immediately called in to HQ and half a dozen nearby officers dispatched to deal with the newcomer. The men that arrived wore armored uniforms of a deep blue hue, similar to the colors worn by law enforcement on many worlds across the multiverse, and their approach was cautious yet strangely polite. None of the officers had weapons drawn or raised, but all had them close at hand and ready for use. An officer with several more rank marks than those accompanying him stepped forward to greet Aeon.

    "Welcome to Arena City, Sir. Would you mind giving us your name and following us out of the safe zone while we ask a few questions? We'll also be willing to answer any questions you may have."
     
  4. As the guards approached Aeon laid his hand on the holster of his pistol. It was a casual nonthreatening movement, but one that should he need to would allow him to draw extremely fast. However as soon as they announced who the were he took his hand off and nodded. As he began to follow them to the safe area.

    "My name is Aeon, and im here to compete in the trials." he said.
     
  5. It was a dark night, the kind where dark things can move unhindered by star or lunar light. The darkness was so think it was nearly palpable. A man moved through the shadows in a manner like a fugitive, trying to escape their grasp. He only needed to reach his home and then he would be safe. Unfortunately, for the man, that was not going to happen. The darkness did grab hold of the man, lifting him off of his feet and into the air. The man shrieked in a manner more befitting a child than an adult and began to flail. He could not see that which held him but he knew the person very well. Calming himself, the man breathed him deeply and exhaled before speaking in an even tone, “What do you want from me, boy?”

    For a long moment there was no reply, the man just hung suspended in darkness and silence. Then the voice entered his mind like the thin last whisper of a dying man, it was slow and forced, “I have heard of a city...a city where my wish may be granted...”

    Though neither man could see each other, the one who seemed in control could feel the expression on the face of his captive. Incomprehensible horror, incomprehensible to the captor at least, flooded over the face of the man suspended in the air. When the captive spoke again, his voice was shaking, “W-what do you mean?”

    The captive could feel the darkness coiling around him, exerting more pressure upon his body, threatening to crush the life from him. He merely grunts and speaks again, “You do no scare me, Zyndir. You know that you cannot kill me.”

    A gurgling, sputtering almost coughing sound echoes through the darkness, something the man knows to be his captor's laughter. The voice slowly rolled back into his mind, “Oh, trust me, counselor... There are things much more horrible than death...”

    Zyndir could feel the man cringe and shiver at his words, could feel the terror that swept through his body. He knew exactly what the man was thinking, he was envisioning a future that he did not want to have any part in. The darkness shifted, throwing the man out of the wide alley that the two had occupied and onto the road. Lights burst into existence as the man lands, the poles upon which they sit becoming visible first.

    The darkness followed out into the road, four tendrils lifting and pulling a small, broken man out from the alley. The man watched as the disfigured form of Zyndir became visible, his dark limbs becoming a little less thick in the light. Leaping to his feet, the man that had been called counselor turned and ran, heading for his home. Languidly, Zyndir gave chase, his dark limbs slowly dragging him after the man.

    Reaching his home, the man had placed his hand upon the door and spoke the words needed to unlock the enchantment placed upon it. With a low flash of green light, the door disappeared, allowing the man to enter. Then the door was simply there again, with no way to open it. A few minutes later, Zyndir's limbs drug him up to the door.

    Inside the man waited, knowing that he was safe, or so he had thought. If not for the magic that shielded his home from outside sources of light and sound, the counselor might have heard that awful excuse for a laugh, once again. Before he could find his bed, the man's eyes are drawn back to the door as a small round knob appears on it. Gasping, the man moved to the door in an attempt to hold it shut.

    Even as he pressed against the door, the counselor knew that Zyndir's strength was greater than his own. The door flew open, the counselor fell onto his back and Zyndir's limbs pulled him into the man's abode. Wrapping itself around the man's legs, Zyndir lifted him from the ground and forced him to stare into his blank white eyes. That sickly voice crept into the counselor's mind, “I have gotten in touch with a side of myself that I never knew I had...A side of myself that you never told me existed...A side you lied to me about...A side with the power to change everything... Now you will tell me what I wish to know...or we can begin changing you...”

    Change was the single greatest fear among his people, something that Zyndir was now well aware of and he knew that eventually the counselor would tell him what he wanted to know. Before the man could speak his response, Zyndir willed the power through him and down to the floor. Everywhere that his tendrils touched changed, some of the wood rotting, some of it splintering and some of it turning into something else entirely. Panic seeped into the man's eyes as the voice fell back into his mind, “As you can see, I have no idea what these powers of mine can really do to you... Do you really want to find out?”

    Shaking his head wildly, the counselor let out a cry, “No, please! I will send you where you want to go!”

    “Good,” Came the voice, before Zyndir sets him on the floor. Scrambling away, the man hurriedly began to gather the things needed to send this monster away from him. So terrified of the possible change that could be inflicted upon him, the counselor forgot about the potential ramifications of sending Zyndir where he wanted to go.

    Waving a stick made of light into the air, the counselor began to draw runes of an unknown nature around the man that had invaded his home. They hung there around Zyndir until all of them were complete. With a bright flash, the invader was gone and the counselor was left by himself. Alone with his thoughts, the man quickly realizes the grievous error he has made, “What have I done?”

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Runes burst forth from nothing, dragging their charge with them into the safe zone of Arena City. Zyndir fell to the ground, his limbs not ready to catch him but it did not seem to bother him. His blank eyes began to scan their surroundings, marveling at the city. It was unlike anything that he had ever seen before. The man tried to make his limbs to let him stand but he did not rise from the ground. Forcing his head to turn, the man found that the limbs were gone. A labored sigh escaped his lips as the man closes his eyes and whispers his name in his mind, “Thess...”

    The tendrils tore their way out of his spine, exploding out and crashing down to the ground around him. Zyndir smiled, it was nice to have them come back so easily, it had taken him decades to achieve such skill. Now though, he found himself in such unfamiliar territory, all sorts of unknown sights, smells and sounds poured into him. It took all of his concentration not to lose control over his limbs.
     
  6. A shadowy creature with the look of a nine tailed wolf calmly walked around the tentacle bearing man. While the head of the wolf was looking ahead, not giving the man much notice, its tails were pointed at him like snakes ready to strike. The one thing that seemed to concern the beast was making sure it was in the shadow of a tall building. Agony continued down the road to the Hub, it had arrived in the wrong place apparently which was disappointing since its entrance was most grand. That man he had just passed seemed odd. Perhaps it was the styling of his hair, the manner of his arrival, or the fact that he was just a torso with a head and black tentacles. It humored it that he was having to concentrate so much, when his normal form could summon thousands at will. It stopped to yawn, stretching as it did so.
     
  7. I wander through the streets, writhing in pain and agony, and cursing my father for cursing me with this Hellfire.
    "Damn You, father! How could you do this to your own son? Why!? Do you enjoy this, seeing me burning like a human torch? Does this amuse you! Damn you! Once I find you, I will burn you alive, so that you know my pain! So that you know the feeling of Hell residing within! Once I find you... Damn you!"
    This babbling is causing the fire within to grow, spouting out small torrents of fire from his flesh, and causing him to let out muffled screams, and grow more enraged over his fate. Where is he? He will search for all eternity, to sake his thirst, and end his curse. "DAMN YOU!!!"
     
  8. "We assumed as much." The officer in charge made a hand motion and the others fell into formation around him and Aeon. "First thing we'll need to know is your... Moral alignment, for lack of a better term. The boss likes to keep track of the people who come and go and what they might get up to while they're here. Helps keep the unanticipated repair costs down. If we know you're the mass-destruction type up front, then we can plan accordingly. Second thing is what you want out of this. What is it that you're here to fight for? Sometimes it can take a while to find things, so it helps if the boss knows what he's looking for before the time comes." They left the grassy park and strolled onto what appeared to be a boulevard leading to a large gate in the near distance. "You'll need to leave the Hub before you can engage in any violence. The Boss doesn't like it when fights break out on his lawn, but there should be plenty of goons to take out as soon as you're out the door."

    They would reach the gate after Aeon gave his answers and posed any more questions he had, and once the new arrival stepped outside he would find himself in a vastly different atmosphere. Where the Hub was calm and civil, the city itself was a writhing miasma of barely controlled chaos. Sirens could be heard almost constantly at varying levels of volume, and bright flashes periodically lit up the cityscape at unpredictable intervals. No doubt the effects of clashing heroes, villains, and various powerful individuals as they fought and died for the things they had come to obtain. To a sane person, the sight would be revolting. So many people, both the innocent bystanders and the participants, slaughtered by those driven to madness by the want of power, and only the participants got to come back.

    Far outside the gate, standing atop the roof of a building that had once housed the offices of a dozen businesses but now lay vacant, was a lone figure clad in black. Watching the gate to the Hub and waiting for whatever would step through it next. Every day brought more of them, and it was only a matter of who it would be this time. Beyond the gate, he could see several individuals moving around inside the shimmering barrier that lit up the night sky, but more than that was impossible for even his uncanny eyesight to pick out while they were still within the shield.

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    The guard response to the other pair of arrivals within the Hub was identical to that of the first, with each being approached by a squad of six to be greeted and have the questions posed, then ushered to the gate and set loose within the city.
     
  9. "Im not to keen on mass destruction, and as for what im looking for; magical objects, advanced weaponry, allies, and resources to fund a war." Aeon told the officer arriving at the edge of the hub. Looking out on the streets he cracked his neck then looked back at the guard. "Guess its time to get to work" Aeon said before stepping into the city.

    He had walked for a bit before coming upon a boy who appeared to be burning alive rambling about something and cursing it. "I assume you are a part of this competition" Aeon said placing his hands on the grips of his pistols. "shall we begin?" Aeon asked getting into a ready position with his left leg forward in a slight backstance both hands on the grips of his pistols.
     
  10. Zyndir took only the slightest notice of the wolf creature, trying to block out anything that was not immediately relevant but even that was enough notice to see the multiple tails. His eyes focused on the thing, watching each tail with delight. He had never seen a wolf with more than one tail. Staring at the creature, Zyndir soon found himself lying back down upon the ground, the dark tentacles having disappeared. Cursing himself in his mind, the man became distracted even more as six officers approach him.

    For a long moment, even after they ask their question, Zyndir did not move. He instead intently studied each of the officers attempting to familiarize himself with their garb and equipment. Then he twitched and closed his eyes, thinking his name to himself, "Thess.."

    Once again, the tendrils exploded out from his back, writhing in the air above his fallen form. The two that he used for legs slowly lifted him from the ground. The tendril he used as his left arm races toward the officer that questioned him in an attempt to make contact.
     
    #10 Thess, Jan 14, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 14, 2015
  11. Agony's yawn was interupted by a snicker as the torso-man fell again. Hells, all it would have to do is put a pike facing up underneath him and the fool would be dead. It snarled when to heard footsteps but calmed down to see a bunch of mortals. "I am all pain and suffering, but I go by Agony. I am not the explode-everything and-then-kill type but things might catch on fire. As for what I am looking for..." It looked up in thought and its tails moved in a wavy pattern. "A way to eclipse the sun." It finished, then added, "from the underworld."
     
  12. The guards reacted quickly, pistols leaving holsters and rifles rising immediately to firing positions, but the men were only human. The tendril of shadow was faster, and would reach the leading officer well before any of the men were ready to open fire. If the action proved overtly hostile, the remaining five would engage the target without hesitation, and an automated signal would be sent to the Hub Tower to warn of the intrusion. If not, the officers would hold their fire until such time as an order was given to the contrary, or overt hostility was displayed.

    "So you wanna become a moon then."

    The remark earned the offending guard a sharp look from his commanding officer, who quickly turned back to the creature to offer a more civil response. "I'm sure the boss will have what you're looking for. If you'll follow us the rest of the way, we can get you out of the Hub and into the action." The group would then continue to the gate, maintaining formation around the creature until he was safely past the gate and on the bridge leading to the city.
     
  13. The tentacle raced through the air, stopping only when it met with the forehead of the officer. As the men drew their weapons, Zyndir ignored them completely, lest he lose his chance to speak. With contact made, the boy's whisper thin voice creeps into the mind of the officer, "I am called Zyndir and I come seeking death... Death...or a renewed chance at life. I desire a fixed form, or an end to a life that could be lived out eternally, unchanging and full of lost promises. I am not often one for wanton destruction, nor is the entity inside me. Still...somethings must be destroyed before they can be changed."

    With his words passed to the officer, Zyndir's tentacle pulled away from the man and returned to his side. The four tendrils proceeded to carry the boy closer to the men, his eyes still never directly looked their way. His eyes stared at the ground below, using his tendrils to feel his way forward. It would take some time for his mind to be accustomed to the new sights and sounds of this city.
     
  14. The sound of someone speaking caused me to stand completely still, and turn to the source of the noise. What I saw before me was an armored man, wielding advanced weapondry. "Aww, a HAT! Model 2.0 I see." I took out my bar of metal, heated it to a malleable point, and pulled it out to roughly 2 feet, and curved like a scimitar. "Let's begin, HAT!" With that, I charged at him, with blade held to the side.
     
  15. The boy was obviously either very immature or very unintelligent, and with it's first instinct being to charge him with a sword he leaned towards the latter. As the child charged him he drew the pistol on his left side. The action was well rehearsed and lightning quick. As the pistol came up his finger pulled the trigger sending six projectiles downrange, with more on the way. They were aimed for the boy's center mass, he held his grip on his right firearm ready to draw it if needed.
     
  16. As Agony followed the group, it held the smartass officer in a extremely creepy 'I can murder you with my toenail' look. Its tails shook with rage at him but did not strike. When they left it Agony continued down the bridge to stop at a former plaza. Towering buildings surrounded it and small stands now obliterated by many a fight littered the area. It laid down in the shade and fell into a light sleep as it waited for a opponent.
     
  17. The bullets ripped through me, leaving gaping holes which let out vents of superheated flame, and are already regenerating. This barely fazed me, since the agony I'm already through is so great, all other sources are numbed, and as such, I continued my charge without noticing the laser bullets cutting through my being. When I reach him, I will swing my scimitar from my right side obliquely, hopefully cutting the man in half from right hip through to left shoulder. I will enhance this blow with heat, leaving a trail of fire following through with the slash.
     
  18. The air felt thick enough to cut with a knife as every guard in the small squad held their weapons on the strange being before them, tense and ready to fire at the slightest of provocations. It was only when the tendril receded and the officer in charge seemed to turn from rigid stone back to supple flesh that the guards relaxed as well. He took several moments to regain his composure before speaking, and his hand went to his forehead instinctively as he felt a small bead of sweat begin to trickle across the bridge of his nose. "Stand down. It meant no harm. That's how it communicates. Some sort of telepathic link. It was just answering our questions." He looked again at the creature before him. "Or he, rather. His name is Zyndir. He's apparently immortal, and... Well, his thoughts are complicated. It was a lot more than just words. Images and feelings and the like. Difficult to describe. I'm sure if he manages enough success the boss will be able to help him out. They've got a lot in common." He motioned for the man to follow them the rest of the way to the gate, then set off at a steady, yet not overly zealous, pace.
     
  19. The wind howled like a witch with cancer in her belly. It was the eerie reminder of what was prophesied; but it was only a minuscule reminder. In fact the armored beasts that marched with stunning precision, like ants swarming to war. These men, or beasts as they were portrayed, were of the deepest fathoms of man's fear, and the summit of his technology. They were enforcers, juggernauts, sentinels of doom. Civilians scattered like sheep fleeing a pack of wolves. The metal men, trying to retain a level if order among the chaos, abused their authority profoundly, beating innocents to a bloody, mangled pulp, a far worse fate than those popped in the grape, execution style. People tried, oh they tried so futilely to retaliate against these metal men, but they were primitive and weak. A woman, blonde and fair skinned clawed at the menacing, emotionless face of her executioner; he responded by snapping her wrist with ease, peeling her arm back and countering with a heavy metal gauntlet to her sniffling, reddened face. She went limp and lifeless. A man lunged on the back of one, but was beaten profusely off, like a mosquito before it was able to draw blood. Everywhere chaos was trumped by "order" and it was gruesome indeed.

    Sirens wailed suddenly, overpowering the wind and the screams and foul language of the surrounding area-- a metropolis city, in flames of course. Street lamps flickered, car security systems went off, gunshots echoed from every street. This was the rapture, the apocalypse, the end of days, and the armored men were the demons upon this dying planet. The civilians ran on, those escaping the heart of the city found refuge anyplace they could. They could not escape the puppets nor the puppeteer, an omnipotent tyrant with a lust for combat. Perhaps this was for entertainment. The tyrant changed the city into a Roman coliseum, pitting entities from every corner of the multiverse in grisly combat. The weak were shadowed by the strong, but the strong were shadowed by the tyrant. The dawn always follows midnight. Perhaps there was a shred of hope. Some civilians had faith in a select few to 'save' them from this melancholy tyranny that infected their city like a cancer. Others were further driven into woe as some 'gladiators' were just as cruel as the tyrant. Some just didn't know what 'side' a gladiator was on. Alas, blood ran through the streets, flies swarmed, children wept. Who was to save this city? Or take it from the tyrant..

    The heavens tore asunder, the howling wind increased in intensity with the arrival of a creature so paradox and ancient it's name was forgotten. The moonlight was eclipsed by a violet light radiating from his physique. Him being Tichtinoc, the Cosmic Terror.

    The creature descended with an authoritative defiance to gravity, directly within the safe zone of the city. His arms were folded across his chest, which was covered in a vibranium carapace. His forearms had two similar pieces of armor.

    Tichtinoc eased and relaxed his form, fatigued by intergalactic travel to the city, which pulsated with cosmic energy. Effectively, he was drawn to it like a moth to candlelight. He stood, tall and statuesque, not moving a digit, awaiting the acknowledgement of his arrival - either in greeting or in terror.
     
    #19 Uffizi, Jan 17, 2015
    Last edited: Jan 18, 2015
  20. Aeon's left arm came down to halt the slash. His suit changed the armor into steel plating and absorbed the thermal energy. Using this newfound abundance of energy to enhance his speed Aeon drew his pistol of the right side at nearly double the speed of his first draw. This pistol would be drawn and slammed underneath the jaw of his opponent where he would pull the trigger and let loose three rounds into the boys skull, unless the action was interrupted somehow.
     
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