trans_9 | 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.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Couches were all well and good but the Doc had never been one to be able to sit still in arms reach of bar games. Their lounge had a pool table, ping pong, some alien version of foozeball, an arcade style pinball machine and a number of other oddities that looked like they were meant to be played by people with more limbs than him.

It was hard to play games with yourself though.

He plucked two drinks from his mini fridge and stopped by the couch to hold one out to Cole.

"I need a Player 2 for a round of pool. Want in?"

Cole was slightly taken off by the ninja/labcoat combo, but whatever.

"Sure."

Doc let Cole take the can of soda then led the way over to the pool table and started fishing the balls out of the pockets and squaring them up.

"So, you worried about the tournament or just enjoying the ride? I gotta admit this is basically my dream mission."

"Figured I'd come along, figure out what exactly I've gotten myself into, see what I'm up against, and start getting involved with the crew." And find something to take some aggression out on, but only to the guys who deserve it.

"Can't hurt to investigate." Doc nodded, fitting the balls into their triangular form. "Did you do much fighting back home before you woke up here or are you just kind of winging it?"

Cole, again, briefly arcs some electricity through his fingertips.

"Obviously, I was a hippie." What does "joking" mean?

"Oh man EVERYBODY but me gets awesome powers around here!" Doc huffed, picking out a que but grinning wide. "I bet those clean energy groupies just loved you, right?"

"Joking about the hippie part." (OOC: Did you play the game?)

"And, let's just say that, when I first got these powers, they loved me in a 'Tear him apart for making our crappy city crappier type of way."

"I thought if I played along maybe you'd have a sarcastic analogy to make." Doc shrugged sheepishly, holding out a que for him. "Sorry, everybody around where I came from is sort of smartassed like that."

He whistled low. "Jeez, exactly how crappy a city are we talking here? I mean, was that just some straight up 'kill the different person' sort of crap, or is there some kind of history among the populace regarding people with lightning fingers?"

(ooc: hahah, no, I suck at games. I am going in blind >_>)

"No, in my universe, there's no such thing as sarcasm, we ALWAYS explain the joke." (OOC: Why the hell didn't I follow-up?)

And in response to the second one.

"More like, 'got framed for causing explosion that caused powers crap."

Maybe his humor got messed-up with his powers?

"That sounds like a raw deal. Sorry, man." Doc sighed. "At least when I get blamed for things they're usually my fault."

"You want to break?" He nodded to the table.

(OOC: McNinja knew Cole was joking with the above, no such thing as sarcasm thing, right?")

"Sure."

(OOC: I have no idea how to play.)

"So, what's your deal?"

"Oh, well..." he stuck out a hand across the table. "I'm Doctor McNinja. Most people just call me Doc. The name pretty much sums it up, honestly."

(OOC: Yep! :) Also - voila - le rules of stripes and solids aka 8-ball)

Choose your destiny! Flawless victory! [Inevitable Tournament Arc]

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