meat_mooks (
meat_mooks) wrote in
trans_92012-04-18 08:51 am
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Choose your destiny! Flawless victory! [Inevitable Tournament Arc]
No sooner did the Obs Deck descend to Arena Planet LXIII, and the crew allowed to disembark, than they were met by a veritable cloud swarm of cameras. Sleek, elegant things that might have been living, might have been machines, maybe were even magical... but were definitely nuisances as the swooped around to capture video of the crew at all conceivable angles, close up and far away. Their every move from this point on would be on camera.
In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"
It went on like this for some time.
Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"
"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"
And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)
In front of a small crowd of retainers stood what appeared to be a great circular orb whose only distinguishing features were a nose, and what appeared to be the most overblown mustache ever, which actually appeared to be supporting that two-foot-diameter orb at shoulder height to a tall man. Then the orb took a couple of steps forward,revealing that no, those were actually just really, really hairy legs. A seam cracked open on the creature, and in a voice loud enough to echo across the broad open plains without any need for amplification, it bellowed, "AND NOW! STRAIGHT FROM THE TRANSMIGRATION NINE VESSEL! OUR NEWEST COMPETITORS! FRESH TO THE STAGE OF BATTLE, BUT NO STRANGERS TO WAR--"
It went on like this for some time.
Under cover of this introduction, a small man that to all appearances seemed to be the love child of Richard Nixon and a particularly aggressive Furby stepped forward, and in a bored businesslike tone recited, "Welcome to the tournament. There will be one battle per day. The arena in which you battle will be determined by random draw. Our medical crew will perform all healing necessary and ensure no deaths so feel free to not hold back. Please refrain from accepting any bribes or favors from on-planet spectators--"
"--ARE YOU READY?!" the orb bellowed even louder than before, completely swamping the smaller man's recitation. "THEN STEP THIS WAY!"
And so saying, the orb and its procession began a clearly well-choreographed procession towards a large, medieval-looking fortress that hung dramatically just on the edge of clear vision. (Conveniently, this procession passed several large advertisements.)
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On the end of each hand, massive jagged claws stretched out over a foot, poised to carve Hit Girl apart as soon as he got in range. Even slowed by his armor, he was still blazing-quick.
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The Pactio was out. The fight was happening too quick for her to use it, and anyway, her barrier jacket was her best defense. Luckily, she didn't need magic to use the attack she learned from Negi.
" Undecim spiritus Tonitrus. Coèuntes, sagittent inimicum meam! Sagitta Magica, Series/Convergentia Tonitrus!
Thunderbolt arrows. That was a new one, but only because she never tried it on a person before. It was Ruffnut that made her attempt it at all, and surprisingly, they wound up being pretty good.
Would they be good enough?
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But that was partially a feint. Where his claws touched the ground, a subtle shifting proved the only warning before another massive spike burst out of the ground directly beneath her once more, biomass forced through the terrain beneath them to catch her off-guard.
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"Oh balls fuck, seriously!?" She blurted out, apparently feeling less inclined to continue her Latin and irritated this guy was the fucking boss from a video game! He had to be!
She had no time to waste though, and floated up again, gritting her teeth. Damn but this was taking a lot of energy. But if the lightning hurt him, she better follow up on it.
Hit Girl fumbled for Zetta's gun again, and this time aimed straight and true, seeing if this would shatter the impressive armor.
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He was actually the protagonist, which made it much worse.The gun's blast hammered into Mercer's armor, not shattering it -- in fact, the armor was him now, his biomass shifted into this new form -- but shredding off layers of tissue. That had hurt.The claws at the end of her opponent's hands melted into thick knobs of flesh so massive even the superhuman figure seemed to have trouble standing straight against the weight on his shoulders. Abruptly, he heaved them back, then flung himself forward, the twin masses launching him through the air like a weighted dart towards her.
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Not today.
She'd have to conserve her energy though. She went back at him again and launched three grenades at him. It wouldn't be enough to stop, but it might hurt him AND it would give her some light for a few seconds.
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His fists shifted again, returning to the whipfist as he lashed at her with the bladed tentacle.
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With the whip fist, she decided to go at him long ranged, using the ray gun she recently bought with Lash on their last shore leave to shatter though his offense.
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With a yell her staff found his way into his chest, pretty sure he wouldn't die. He wasn't supposed to, right? That was the rules.
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One thing saved her from taking a claw or blade through the chest as he reached up for her -- he had to shift his hand away from the whipfist to do it. Which he was doing even now, the tendril retracting and the claws extending.
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So as she rolled away, one grenade was flung at his face and two on the floor next to him. No way she was going to miss that window of opportunity.
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It lasted all of five seconds before the cavern erupted in fireworks and a victory fanfare.
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But no, that would be stupid. It looked as if she...actually won.
Shit, that had been tough. Her limbs were aching, her eyes hurt from seeing in the dark, and she was sporting a pretty mean looking black eye and bruise on her cheek. Nonetheless, she managed a smile.
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An old man, hideously blackened and burned, leaned heavily on a staff as he faced her. "Choose your spoils," he said.
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"Those hand things are clumsy and wouldn't look good on me," she mused, "so I'm gonna go with opening up the floor and attacking stuff. That'll be useful in the next fight."
She would have kept the shield, but she had the barrier jacket and the force field spell. Hit Girl would make do with those.
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"A virus," he muttered. "You must pick a hand, then. It will be a carrier for the virus. I will contain it to that hand. I have that power."
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"I'll go with the claws then," she said, although she didn't look super enthused about having a virus in her. They could get that out later, right?
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"All right," she said, taking a breath. "Hell, I've had viruses before, this one will just be different."
That's right Hit Girl. Downplay it as much as you can.
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"Better go with the ground spike."
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