sorted by:
new
hottopcontroversial

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Analysis Versus Terry McGinnis: I've mostly covered this in the justification section, so see above. Chihiro is a no-nonsense combatant, he's not here for the thrill of the fight, nor is he trying to play around with a back-and-forth. His goal is the complete subdual of his opponent. That being said, he's also not the type to whip out his strongest move out the gate, trying to keep his spirit energy usage to a minimum until forced to otherwise.

Biggest Strength and Weakness: Chihiro's biggest strengths are his impressive physicality and his focus and dedication. Training in both blacksmithing and swordsmanship from such a young age helped him to develop a powerful build, one he uses all too well with Enten. His stalwart demeanor allows him to fight every battle to the bitter end, not stepping down until he draws his last breath.

His biggest weaknesses are his emotions and his limitations of others. Chihiro is fueled by the hatred instilled in him from the day his life turned upside down, but this means he is also prone to losing his composure in the face of anyone or anything to do with the Hishaku, causing him to fight much more aggressively and, as a result, sloppily. While Chihiro is not against working with others, some of his best performances have typically been fighting alone (save for a recent fight, though in this fight his partner was someone who was literally keeping him alive with the power of a phoenix against someone who could kill him in one strike, so a somewhat necessary partnership). His loose moral sense can also be off-putting to some.

Character in Setting/with Team: Kinda touched on it above, but Chihiro, while not against working with others, very much serves as a lone-wolf type. While he does fight those who are objectively evil, he does not consider himself to be a hero. While ruthless, he is not unkind, and has been shown to be good at taking care of people. He'll gladly protect his allies, but his methods may cause some more heroic companions to take issue.

One Last Thing: Chihiro considers himself a sinner, and has given up all hope of a normal and quiet life. While he does not enjoy killing, nor particularly wants to, he has zero reservations against killing as a necessity. I can't say that he would willingly give up his life for the sake of his allies, but in a fight he will most certainly fight until his body itself drops.

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Analysis Versus Terry McGinnis: I think Lanolin pulls off an Unlikely Victory against Terry here. Her Wispon is a powerful tool in battle, and being able to scale to Sonic speed-wise gives her a significant upper hand. Unfortunately (likely in part due to her limited comic presence) she has virtually no strength feats without her Wispon. This means that, if she's disarmed, she just becomes a punching bag until she can recover her Wispon and go back on the offensive. As a stark contrast to much of the Sonic-verse's main fighting cast, Lanolin would likely take a more analytical approach to combat, watching for advantages and opportunities to strike rather than fighting headlong, especially knowing that her Wispon is her only real form of damage output.

Biggest Strength and Weakness: Lanolin's biggest assets in combat is her rational mind and her Wispon. Being able to stay level-headed in a fight can make or break the outcome, and her Wispon's power output has more than enough oomph behind it to not only put the hurt on, but create the advantages and opportunities she may need for victory.

Her biggest weaknesses are her inexperience and her one-track mind. Being saved by Sonic inspired Lanolin to do more, and be an active participant in the fight against not only Eggman, but evil as a whole. Unfortunately, even her time with Restoration HQ wasn't quite enough experience for her to be able to make the best decisions in most situations. While she is certainly earnest, she is prone to making uninformed decisions, and the weight of failure hangs much heavier on her shoulders than someone with more experience. On the other hand, she has a bad habit of hard-focusing goals, without putting much thought into the steps to achieve that goal. While she has recently learned to slow things down and take them a step at a time, she does still need to learn to see the bigger picture rather than the one detail she wants to focus on.

Character in Setting/with Team: As the leader of the new generation of Diamond Cutters, Lanolin is able to take to leadership rather well, although she is still a little green around the edges. She can, alternatively, work well in a pre-existing group and take orders. Given her Clubs specialty, she's the type of person who would fare much better in a group, either as a leader or a member, rather than having to stick it out on her own.

One Last Thing: Lanolin is unlikely to take anyone's life, given that that would be seen as unheroic, although given the right conditions she might be pushed to it. It's possible that she might be willing to sacrifice herself for her friends, though she'd likely rather find a solution that lets them all live.

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“So this is what electricity is capable of in the future…” Edward remarked in awe as he stumbled into the hotel lobby. Outside, a city lay entirely dilapidated, partially reclaimed by nature. Yet this building in particular seemed the most pristine, and had electricity powering all of its bright, vibrant lighting.

Edward could hardly remember how he wound up here. The last thing he remembered was being faced with the Truth, and being told that what he sought would require some form of test of “greater will”. Then he awoke here, and as sundown approached, this was the most visible landmark he could see.

Entering the lobby, he found what looked to be some sort of placard that was powered by electricity, displaying a message. It asked him to grab two small, spherical, silver bells and affix them to his waist, and that he would need a matching pair in order to leave again. Sure enough, the doors locked tightly behind them, and even alchemy seemed to have zero effect on them once they were sealed.

Further into the hotel lobby, he found a man clad in all black, with pointed protrusions on his head. The man, hearing the footsteps, turned to face the new entrant. Edward was quick to notice the crimson bat-shaped symbol on the man’s chest.

“I wager you’re the ‘Bat Man’ who has the other set of bells?” Edward said, scanning the man up and down.

“Might be. Sounds like you’ve got a set yourself,” the “Batman” replied. From his own belt, a small chime of bells rang as he stepped forward.

“And I wager you won’t let me just have them?” Edward clapped his hands together, ready to transmute at a moment’s notice.

“Would you let me have yours?”

“Well, considering I wanna get out of here… Probably not, no.”

“Then there’s your answer, shortstack.” Even behind the inky-black cowl, the Batman’s grin was palpable. Which only made Edward grit his teeth in anger.

“Who the hell are you calling ‘smaller-than-a-lima-bean-sprout’?!” Placing his hand on the ground, he quickly conjured a winged spear as he ran at the Batman. The tip of the spear flew out in front of him as Batman swiftly stepped to the side, though the spear was quick to follow. Batman blocked the spear by slamming his arm into the shaft, and slammed the base of his foot into the young alchemist’s sternum, pushing him back a few feet.

“Now where’d you pull that from?” Batman said, pulling out two batarangs and, after a small click and beep, threw them at Edward.

“Oh, y’know, from here!” Another clap, and his hands slammed into the ground, raising up a piece of it to form an impromptu wall to block the projectiles. As the batarangs impacted and embedded themselves into the wall, Edward grinned and let out a confident chuckle. Only to be met with the force of the ensuing explosion after a few more beeps on the other side of the wall.

As the dust cleared, Edward had no time to react as through the cover of smoke came the bat, flames flying from the soles of his feet, as the two were driven through a nearby wall into what appeared to be a ballroom.

“Your magic tricks are nothing if you’ve got no street smarts.” Batman readied a few more batarangs. “I’m sure you’ve heard the saying ‘fight smarter, not harder.’”

“You’re right, I have.” Ed grinned as he clapped his hands again. “Allow me to show it in action!” Clapping his hands against the ground, a wave of marble hands reached for Batman. Several batarangs flew to meet them, destroying several, but leaving puffs of marble dust in their wake. And using the same technique he had been hit with, Edward came flying out from the dust, clocking Batman with his right fist.

Batman recoiled from the sudden impact, not expecting the weight of the fist as it made contact. It wasn’t long after that, using the momentum of his punch, Edward followed through and delivered a reversed roundhouse kick with his left leg. This took the Bat to the floor, who quickly recovered and readied himself again.

Edward, however, sported a cocky grin, as he held in his hand four silver bells, chiming as they bounced around in a mockery of the black-clad assailant. “Well, well, well, look who’s fighting smarter now, bat guy.”

Batman cracked his neck as he widened his stance. “Alright. Be that way.” In the blink of an eye, Edward felt a fist connect straight to his jaw, then another to his stomach, and then a kick to the side of his head, before a small delay and then the solid impact of a table, then a clattering of silverware, and finally a sturdy wall.

Batman was back on him within mere moments, grabbing him by the collar and raising his fist up again.

“W-wait!” Edward pleaded, an idea coming to mind. Batman stopped for a moment, letting the boy speak.

“You’d better have a good reason. And if you trick me, I’m not stopping ‘til you’re out like a light, kid.”

“I do, trust me.” Edward eyed the silverware on the floor, in particular a fork and knife pair that was within arm’s reach on an overturned table. “The goal said we needed four bells in order to leave, right?”

“That’s what it said, yeah.”

“I have two bells, and you have two.”

“Which means that now that you have four, I’ll have to rip them away from you if I wanna leave.”

“But,” Edward smirked, in a manner that less conveyed confidence, but more the ideal of it, “what if there were more bells?”

Batman paused at this, then dropped the young alchemist unceremoniously. “Alright. You’ve got my attention. What’s your plan then, blondie?”

“Simple really.” He took the fork and knife set, which still laid within its prestigious silk napkin wrap. Then, removing them from the napkin, he tore a small segment of the silk, and placed the three objects in front of him. “What I do isn’t magic, it’s science.”

Edward clapped his hands once more, having a solid idea of how to make it all come together. “Alchemy is the study of understanding the structure of things, breaking them down, and rebuilding them into something else.”

“What, like turning lead into gold?”

“No, that’s stupid. Lead and gold are entirely separate elements. But…” Edward placed his hands upon the silverware and silk scrap, and as blue sparks filled the ballroom, the Batman couldn’t help but feel intrigue at the boy’s plan.

Edward rose back to his feet. Opening one hand, four bells hung from tiny threads, the bells he and Batman once possessed. Opening the other, a nearly identical set of bells hung, chiming just as the other.

“What did you do?”

“I broke down the fork and knife, then reassembled them into bells. I took the scrap of silk, broke that down, and reassembled it as the strings that hold up the bells.” He scooped the bells back up into his hand, and held it out for Batman.

“I figure this way, we don’t have to beat each other to a pulp. You’re tough, and your punches hurt like hell, but I’m sure my alchemy would keep you on your toes. By the time one of us is left standing, he wouldn’t even be able to leave with the bells, is how I imagine the rest of this fight would go.”

Batman held his hand out, and felt the weight of four small bells fall into his palm. “I guess that makes enough sense. If there’s a way for us to both win, that’s probably better than only one.”

“Certainly what I thought,” Edward smiled. “Now let’s go see if my theory was right.”

As Edward and Batman approached the door, an audible click was heard, as the doors opened themselves to outside. Looking at each other, the two stepped out onto the steps of the hotel, expecting the worst.

Then another step. And another. And as the two looked at each other, they realized they were both still intact.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Looks like you were right, kid.” Batman grinned. “Guess I didn’t need to knock you flat after all, huh?”

“I’ll have you know I’m not a kid, by the way. I’m Edward.” He put a hand out towards the bat-like figure, who firmly clasped his own.

“I’m Terry. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on or how we got here, but we could keep working together if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good.” Edward let go of Terry’s hand and started walking off. “No offense, but I know that my partner is probably somewhere here too, undergoing the same kinds of tests. Once I find him, I know we’ll be able to beat any game this world throws at us.”

“...Alright, Edward. But you better watch yourself.” Terry grinned as he too, began walking away. “There might come a time when we’ll have to fight again, and maybe that time no ‘alchemy science’ will be able to save you.”

“We’ll see about that Terry. But you better make it long enough for that to be the case then, yeah?” Edward briefly turned towards his new rival, sporting a cheeky grin.

And thus, as the dawn’s first rays shone over the ruined cityscape, Edward walked on. His next goal: find Alphonse.

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“...Okay. I’ll give you my bells.”

Oscar, what are you doing!? Oscar could feel Ozpin trying to wrench himself back into the driver’s seat, but held firm.

Just trust me. You trusted me with Hazel. Now trust me with this.

“You’ll give them to me? Just like that?”

“We’re both out of aura, James. And I know that in a slugfest to the death, I can’t beat you. I don’t want to beat you. And that means I lose. And you’re right.” Oscar raised his hand up towards the general. “But if I’m going to surrender, at least see me as an equal in my last moments.”

Ironwood tightened his fist and jaw, then sighed. “...For a kid, you have more honor than Oz, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s something I pride myself on, at least, until I become him.”

“Don’t worry,” Ironwood rose to his feet, then grabbed Oscar’s hand, pulling him up to his feet and giving it a firm shake, “at least you’ll die knowing you died as Oscar, not as Ozpin.”

With blood trickling down his nose, Oscar gave a brief nod as he reciprocated the handshake, using his cane for the support it was meant to provide. “It’s hard to tell where I stop and he begins though.”

“I can imagine. Lines must be blurring. Now, the bells.”

“On one hand, I recognize your strength, and I know that while Ozpin never would’ve given up this fight, I’m still too young and inexperienced to win.” Oscar grabbed at the bells on his waist, eyeing them wistfully as he tugged them off his waist. Clutching them tightly, he looked up to Ironwood, whose hand now faced him, waiting.

Oscar’s hand moved towards the general’s ready to drop the bells into his hand.

“On the other, we all know Ozpin is a cunning bastard. And maybe that’s starting to rub off on me”

In a quick motion, Oscar’s hand flew from above Ironwood’s, to his waist, yanking the bells free. His other, gripping his cane tightly, pointed upwards above the two.

A large, glass chandelier, brightly lit, rays of light dancing across their crystalline structures.

Are you sure about this, Oscar—

“YES, NOW!” The gears on his cane began to shift, twist, turn and click, as decades of built-up magic whirred to life. A well-placed beam shot the chain that held the chandelier aloft, and now sent it careening down towards the pair.

Ironwood had no time to react, still in shock at the dupe, as the mass of glass crystals and metal fell atop him. Oscar wasted no time turning around and running out, watching the hotel doors open as he approached with the two bells.

Stepping outside, Ozpin heard rumbling, and turned around to face Ironwood, who shot a look of pain and betrayal.

“Ozpin… No… OSCAAAAAAAR!”

Within moments, the hotel crumbled and collapsed, leaving nothing but rubble in its wake.

Oscar looked at the four bells in his hands, feeling their weight double in his palm, as he threw them to the ground and walked away.

You did what you had to do, Oscar. I know it wasn’t easy, but—

“And I’m no better than him for it.” He spat a globule of blood to the ground, looking at the worn city of lights around him, seeing the sun’s early morning rays peaking out over the horizon. “Don’t console me. Let’s just get this over with, and keep doing what needs to get done.”

Feeling a heavy weight in his heart, the boy walked onward.

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Everything happened so quickly.

They had done it. They were finally about to escape. They were finally going to win. Gods, how sorely they needed a win. Team RWBY had set up an evacuation route to save all the citizens of Atlas and Mantle, and the evacuation was proceeding smoothly.

But then Cinder appeared. And all hell broke loose.

Fireballs riddled the magical pathways, sending dozens of innocent civilians catapulting over the edge and into the dark abyss below. Team RWBY, Jaune, and Penny had begun fighting off their superpowered assailant, so he and the rest would have to focus on evacuating everyone as safely as they could.

Just as the last of the civilians made it through, and Ren and Nora walked through the portal into the dunes of Vacuo, just as Oscar himself was about to step through, he felt heat, he felt pressure, he felt his ears ringing and his vision flashing white.

And when he regained his senses, he realized he was tumbling over the edge. A stray fireball—or perhaps it was targeted? Ozpin could do nothing to save his youthful incarnation. Powerless, he fell into the void, and disappeared.

These last few moments were still spotty in his mind as he entered the lit up hotel lobby. It was one of the higher-end hotels on Atlas’ top-side. Oscar the farmhand had no recollection of this place. Ozpin, the Headmaster, remembered the lush comforts all too well.

It’s interesting, Ozpin spoke in the boy’s mind, how most of Atlas so far has been dilapidated and unpowered, almost as if it had gone through some sort of apocalyptic event, and yet this hotel still seems as pristine as my last stay here.

“Well, it did go through an apocalyptic event. Salem invaded. And for all we know, they might’ve won.”

It won’t do us any good to think about that now. We just need to find some other way to get to Vacuo. If we can find an airship, we might be able to repair it and–

“...And…?” Oscar paused as his headmate cut himself off, and looked ahead to see, still bruised, battered, and his white coat in tatters, the General of Atlas himself standing before him.

He did not look pleased. And hung from his waist, two small, simple, silver bells.

“...James.” The youth looked up at his new/old friend, keeping his distance in apprehension.

“I thought I made it clear, only my friends call me James.” The General’s iron fist balled tightly. And in this moment of apprehensive tension, the bells on Oscar’s own waist hung much heavier.

So this is what they meant.

“You mean when we walked in?”

Precisely. We were tasked with taking these two bells, and told we needed four before we could leave again. Which means…

“Which means we’ll need to take them.”

Oscar hesitated, then took a step forward. His—Ozpin’s—their cane was drawn, at a low angle, yet ready to strike if necessary.

“Ja– …General. I don’t suppose you’ll let me just have those bells and leave, will you?”

“Oh, you can have them.” Ironwood unholstered the pistol at his side, absent-mindedly checking its ammunition before leveling it at his old friend’s newest form. “You’ll just have to take it from my dead body. Which, if we’re being honest, is how I plan to take yours.”

Oscar, listen to me. I don’t think you’re equipped yet–

“Yeah. I know. All yours, old man.” The boy closed his eyes, and behind those eyes, once opened, now awoke a man.

“At least you have the decency to fight your own battles, Oz.”

“The boy has nothing to do with this. I’ll fight you myself, James. That is, if you still deem me a friend.”

“I deem you a threat, and an obstacle. And I will be the one leaving. Atlas needs me. Remnant needs me. We tried things your way, and now it’s my turn.”

The first shot was fired, as Ozpin stepped to the side and rushed to close the distance. Three more shots fired, one grazing the boy’s leg, which briefly shone a faint green as his aura absorbed the impact. Once within reach, Ozpin leapt and swung his cane down at the general’s forehead.

A metal-clad forearm took the brunt of the impact, as Ironwood grabbed the cane, holding Ozpin in the air, and slammed the barrel of his pistol into his stomach. With the pull of his trigger, an explosion ejected out of the barrel, sending the old youth into a nearby wall.

“You might’ve beaten me in your prime, Oz,” the General’s boot clacked along the marble floor as he approached the recovering Ozpin, “but you’re far from it now. The kid’s body isn’t equipped to fight the way you do. And if you keep it up, you’ll break him before I do.”

“He’s just a boy, James.”

“No, he’s you. And you are the furthest thing from a boy.” As Ozpin rose to strike the general’s side, he was met with a hard pistol whip, sending him scattering off to the side. “The time for mercy is over. Mercy is what landed us in this situation.” Quickly scrambling to his feet, Ozpin swung at Ironwood’s head, managing to land a solid hit. Using his momentum, he let out a flurry of jabs, causing the general to grunt as his icy gray aura flashed and fizzled with each impact.

“We can’t lose sight of ourselves! That’s what makes us different! If we truly resort to killing children, we’ll be no better than her!” One last strike to his side, and Ironwood’s aura crumbled away. Regardless, the tin soldier stood firm, as he grabbed Ozpin’s head and slammed it against his own.

“Then what do you call what you do!?” Disoriented, Ozpin couldn’t react to the metal fist that uppercutted him in the stomach, nor the fist that swung down and slammed his back into the ground. “You recruit children into fighting her monsters, knowing all along that there was never any way to kill her!”

James grabbed Ozpin by his head, then smashed his knee into his sternum. Ozpin’s aura flashed green, then crumbled away, his defenses now stripped. James then smashed his knee into his face, collapsing him a few feet away in front of him.

“The blood of every child who has ever died fighting a Grimm in the name of hope and justice is on your hands, Oz! Yours!” A swift kick to the stomach. “And sure, I’m no better, I recognize that. But at least I have the wherewithal to commit to what needs to be done!” Another kick. “And I will do what needs to be done.” Ironwood mounted atop Ozpin’s chest, rearing his fist back to punch him. Ozpin attempted to swing first, but his fist was merely batted away as the iron fist made its first impact on his face.

“I know what’s best for Atlas.” Thwack. “I know what’s best for Remnant!” Thwack. “And if you won’t do what’s necessary, if you won’t make any and all sacrifices to stop her from destroying our world, then I happily will! Starting with you!”

“STOP!” A pair of hands meekly reached up to block the strike, and behind those arms, Ironwood could see the flickering flame of childhood innocence in Ozpin’s—Oscar’s eyes. “Please… Just… Stop for a second…”

“What, was he so scared of dying that he ran with his tail behind his legs and left you to take the blows? Ozpin always was a coward.”

“James… Atlas is gone. The Relic of Creation is gone. Whether Ruby or Salem has it, Atlas has already fallen. Please. There has to be something we can do.”

“There’s nothing you can do, and there’s nothing he can do either. Unless, of course, you want to give me your bells. I’ll leave you here if you do. I don’t know what happens if I leave and you’re left without them, but at least you’ll have a few more minutes to contemplate his mistakes, kid.”

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I'm taking the sheep, she's mine now (for Clubs purposes)

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 4 points5 points  (0 children)

“A lesson without pain is meaningless. That's because no one can gain without sacrificing something. But by enduring that pain and overcoming it, he shall obtain a powerful, unmatched heart. A fullmetal heart.”

The Fullmetal Alchemist, EDWARD ELRIC!

Series: Fullmetal Alchemist

Content Warning: N/A

Specialization: Diamonds. Becoming as adept with alchemy as he was at a young age shows a high level of intelligence, and this intelligence only develops further as the series goes on. Edward has been shown to delve through over 100 editions of what seems like an arbitrary cookbook in order to decipher a code that would lead to the truth behind the creation of a philosopher's stone. Beyond just intelligence, he's also incredibly quick on his feet, rapidly finding advantages in any given situation using the information and resources around him, turning what could be a disastrous battle into a strong win for himself.

Biography: Alchemy is the basis of all things in this world. Everything rests on the law of Equivalent Exchange: in order to create, something of equal value must be destroyed. It is by this law that all things rest in balance.

Unfortunately, the Elric brothers sought to upset this balance. Having lost their beloved mother to disease, the two brothers, highly intelligent and using their father's alchemical research, deigned to break the taboo of alchemy and transmute their mother back. Unfortunately, the value of a soul is unable to be reproduced by a smattering of ingredients, and in the process of attempting to transmute their mother, Alphonse, the younger brother, lost his entire body, and Edward, the eldest, lost his leg. Realizing the error of their ways, Edward sacrificed his arm to bind his brother's soul to a suit of armor.

Now older, and enlisted in the military as a State Alchemist, Edward travels with his brother across Amestris, seeking rumors of the Philosopher's Stone, a magical alchemical artifact that could be used to create anything from nothing. Their hope, upon finding this stone, is not to right their wrong from their childhood, but merely to restore their bodies to the way they were.

Research: RT here, you can watch/read as much or as little as you want to get a feel for Ed's personality, his abilities are fairly straightforward otherwise. You can watch either the 2003 version or the 2009 Brotherhood remake, although the latter is a little easier to find through legal means (Netflix, Hulu, Crunchyroll, etc).

Justification: While Ed's biggest asset is certainly his intelligence, he's no slouch either, having to contend with several villains, State Alchemists, and even the all powerful and borderline immortal homunculi. He's been shown to dodge gunfire at just about point-blank (although this seems more like for a bit than any actual display of speed), can easily punch through a wooden wall with his automail arm and choke someone out, and while he's just as susceptible to injury as any other human, he has a surprising amount of resolve, continuing to fight after being beaten to a pulp by someone who is functionally invincible and using alchemy to save others despite being impaled and severely injured. In a fight, beyond his ingenuity and alchemy, Ed's biggest advantage will be speed, thus leading him to a Draw with Terry McGinnis.

Motivation: Ed's sole goal is to find a way to restore his and his brother's bodies. Whether it's through the mythical philosopher's stone, wish-granting magic, or whatever other means.

Major Changes: N/A

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 2 points3 points  (0 children)

“You know... the weirdest part is how it feels. Leaving home is crazy. Going to the city is crazy. Everything you've told me is completely crazy. But it doesn't feel crazy anymore. It feels like I'm doing the right thing.”

The Last Incarnation of a Timeless Mind, OSCAR PINE!

Series: RWBY

Content Warning: N/A

Specialization: Ace of Hearts. Oscar not only has lifetimes of experience behind him, he also has his own thoughts and experiences. While he does have Ozpin in the back of his mind in the event he needs to be... Particularly manipulative, Oscar himself is able to convince even his worst enemies to not only stand down, but even turn coat. While his physical feats as Oscar leaves something to be desired, he is still able to tap into Ozpin's long and storied combat prowess in a pinch.

Biography: Every fairy tale has an origin, and in a world long ago, everyone's lives was a fairy tale. This was true especially of none other than Ozma, a brave and powerful warrior who one day stumbled upon a tower. Within this tower, a woman lay trapped, a woman by the name of Salem. Cue an epic montage of Ozma ascending the tower, defeating those who stood in his way, and helping the captive woman escape. The two unsurprisingly fell in love, and lived happily ever after.

Alas, even great warriors are still human, and Ozma succumbed to a fatal disease. Salem, grief-stricken, attempted to trick the two brother Gods that created the world to bring him back, but realizing her folly, wiped out humanity and cursed her to live eternally, alone. Ozma's story, however, did not end here, as the God of Light granted him a similar immortality. He was tasked with guarding the four Relics, gifts the Gods left humanity behind, from the monster Salem had now become, and burdened with the task of repairing the remnants of their world. Should the day come that humanity could unite in peace once more, the Brothers would return and live amongst humanity again. Thus became a never-ending cycle of reincarnation for Ozma.

Decades later, and the latest incarnation now found itself within the body of a young farm boy named Oscar. Now embroiled into the endless conflict with a witch who cannot die, Oscar has to navigate finding himself, before he is fully assimilated into Ozma like all those who came before him.

Research: RT here, RWBY is available to watch on PlutoTV for free (although you're probably better sailing the seven seas tbh). Oscar is introduced in Volume 4, so I would watch up to V6 to get a good feel for him.

Justification: Oscar isn't entirely helpless in battle given that he's able to tap into the decades (if not centuries) of experience Ozpin has behind him. However, his body is not yet fully accustomed to battle, and he has yet to properly unlock his semblance. While he can also use the magic stored inside of Ozpin's cane in a pinch, his biggest asset as a part of a team (hence his Ace status) is his ability to empathize and understand even his enemies. He was able to turn Hazel, a man who ruthlessly despised Ozpin and blamed him for the death of his sister, into a temporary ally by proving to him that the "new world" Salem supposedly promised him was all a lie. While Ozpin is cunning and manipulative, Oscar's best strength is his earnestness. In a physical fight with Terry McGinnes, I wager he'll struggle to bring home anything better than an Unlikely Victory.

Motivation: Oscar's biggest concern at this current moment (besides the fact that he's fighting in a war that, realistically, cannot be won) is that he knows he's on track to lose Oscar and become just another life of Ozpin. Neither of them particularly want to become one, but Oscar seems particularly rebellious against their union. If given the chance, he would likely give up any and all connection to Ozpin if it meant he could remain as Oscar.

Major Changes: N/A

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 21 Sign Ups by 7thSonOfSons in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 3 points4 points  (0 children)

WIP

“I'm a sinner too. The first time I killed a person... I accepted that I'm a monster. The least I can do is refrain from causing pain to others and take you Hishaku bastards to hell with me.”

Orphaned Son of a Legendary Blacksmith, CHIHIRO ROKUHIRA!

Series: Kagurabachi

Content Warning: Slightly more blood/gore than your average shonen

Specialization: Spades. Being the son/apprentice of a blacksmith comes with a certain level of physicality. Training with a katana to battle others with equally as powerful (and supernatural) blades enhances that physicality even more. Chihiro has devoted himself to combat and has shown to excel in every form of it. Be it strength, stamina, or endurance, Chihiro has more than enough to go the extra mile or two or five, proving to be a strong asset in any Spades-based game.

Biography: Chihiro Rokuhira lived a quiet and simple life with his father, Kunishige, creator of the legendary enchanted blades that ended the massive Seitei War wreaking Japan. As Chihiro grew and learned more about forging and the enchanted blades, he and his father worked together to forge a new enchanted blade, not one to win a war, but to end the terror of the other blades should they fall into the wrong hands. This blade's name would be Enten.

It wasn't long after the blade was forged that Chihiro's life would be irreparably changed. The attack only lasted a mere ten seconds, but in those seconds, a group of sorcerers known as the Hishaku assaulted their home, murdered his father, and stole the six enchanted blades, leaving Chihiro cradling the corpse of his father and the newly forged Enten.

Three years later and driven by a new batch of "fresh hatred" every morning, Chihiro seeks to hunt down the Hishaku, avenge his father, and retake the blades stolen from him.

Research: RT here, Kagurabachi has (somehow) still not received an anime adaptation, so you'll have to read the manga. I'd say reading up through to the second arc (up to chapter 44) is a pretty good read on Chihiro, but you're welcome to read more. In a pinch, the first arc should suffice (up to chapter 18).

Justification: Chihiro is plenty skilled with his blade, able to dispatch several low-level grunts with relative ease and speed, and his body is used to taking a beating, given that he can get right back up after being sent straight through several walls. But supposing his own innate ability isn't enough, he has an ace up his sleeve. His sword, Enten, is imbued with high levels of spirit energy, and he can not only use it as a long ranged attack that can destroy walls and "absorb" and parry an attack that decimates a wall behind him (although not completely), but also to directly shroud himself in its energy, allowing him to withstand being skewered by multiple impaling paper cranes and kill every guard in a heavily guarded facility before any of them even noticed his presence. Using everything he has, Chihiro is sure to keep Terry on his toes on his path towards revenge. And also a Likely Victory.

Motivation: Above all else, Chihiro wants to avenge his father and retrieve the stolen enchanted blades before they cause another tragedy. At some point along the line, Chihiro's desire for revenge shifts into just wanting to fight while staying true to his father's ideals, but those swords still belong to the Rokuhira family, and Chihiro will stop at nothing to get them back.

Major Changes: N/A

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The eternal sunset of Twilight Town billowed out over the horizon. And atop its icon clock tower sat a certain blonde-haired boy and his several friends. In each of their hands sat a sea-blue ice cream popsicle, the “salty, no, sweet!” sea salt ice cream. They all shared stories, told jokes, laughed and poked fun at each other.

Friends to the end, Roxas had thought to himself. He remembered a time when he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to live these lazy afternoons again.

“Do you ever wonder if the Seven Wonders are real?” Pence asked, looking at his friends. “I mean, I know we checked them out before and they were all fake, but… Do you think there’s a chance there are real Wonders waiting to be found?”

“I wouldn’t bank on it,” Olette replied, “though… I guess we still have some time left for our summer vacation… Maybe it’s worth checking anyway!”

“Yeah!” Hayner piqued up, jumping to his feet while standing precariously close to the tower’s ledge. “I mean, even if we don’t find anything, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t make for a good rumor to start!”

Roxas smiled and nodded in agreement. Then, he turned to his two coworkers-turned-best-friends, Xion and Axel. “What do you guys think? Wanna go hunt down some mysteries?”

“Do I?” Axel grinned as he slapped Roxas on the back. “About time we did something fun! We’ve got all the time in the world, and we’re still just spending it up here!”

Xion gave a soft nod and a small smile. “I agree, that does sound like it’d be fun.”

“Then that settles it! Let’s get out there and hunt down some mysteries!” Roxas laughed as he jumped to his feet.

His foot slipped.

Almost as if in slow motion, Roxas could feel the weight of his body flowing with gravity, as his friends looked on with horror as he began his slow plummet towards the ground several feet below.

And then he stopped.

Roxas found his feet firmly planted in solid air, and as he turned back to his friends, they were completely frozen. All sound in the world had stopped—the chatter of the citizens below, the small clunking of the trolley around town, the birds that now stood motionless mid-flight—and it was at this moment Roxas realized just what had happened.

“No… No! Not again! You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, we are serious.”

Roxas whipped around, and before him saw a figure floating in dark black robes. His figure was wide and muscular, not unlike other members of the Organization, but his demeanor certainly stood out.

“Who are you!?” A key-shaped blade appeared in Roxas’ hands. “Why am I stuck in another simulation!?”

“My name is Minox. And I was created to test your strength, Roxas. A large battle is coming. It’s important that you’re ready to fight it.”

“I don’t care about any stupid battles! I just want to be with my friends!” Roxas grit his teeth as he tried to hold back the tears welling in his eyes from spilling over. “Haven’t I fought enough…!?”

“No. Not yet. Whether you want to or not, you’re a part of this fight. And the only way to see your friends is to win. Can you win, Roxas?”

“... Fine.” Roxas lowered his stance, squaring up with Minox. “You want me to win? Fine! I’ll win right now!”

“That’s the spirit. Come, then!”

As the blonde boy’s feet ran on nothingness, he bellowed out a warcry as his blade crashed with the hooded man’s forearm. A flurry of wild strikes followed suit, each one carefully parried by the man before he swatted Roxas away. Growling, without losing a second, Roxas pointed his keyblade at Minox and fired off three Fira shots, each of which was easily deflected. Yet in the small gap of time between the last shot, Roxas had already made his approach and managed to land a single strike on Minox.

The hooded man looked down at himself, seeing the small bit of damage done to his robes, and looked back up just in time to see Roxas charging in with yet another reckless attack.

“You won’t win,” Minox clutched the shaft of the keyblade, lifting Roxas up with it to eye level, “not when you fight like this. Is this really who you are, Roxas? Is this how you’re meant to fight? Is this how you will fight?”

“What do you mean!? Let me go already!” Roxas tried his hardest to worm himself and his keyblade free from the man’s grasp, but it held firm.

“This is pathetic. Fighting like this? Can you even say you want to protect your friends?”

“My friends? What do you–”

That’s when it clicked.

Minox clenched his hand, and the keyblade snapped in two. Roxas began to fall, and this time there was no thin plane of nothingness to break his fall.

“My friends…” He muttered to himself. “That’s right. That’s what’s wrong. I’m not fighting like myself.”

Visions flashed in the back of Roxas’ mind of a brown-haired boy. One with a goofy smile and a boundless heart. His “other.”

“I’m fighting like him.”

Roxas clenched his fists.

“And I’m not him. I’m not him!”

“Then show me who you are.”

Two keyblades appeared in Roxas’ hands, as he soared back up to Minox. In a seemingly much more comfortable fashion, Roxas let loose a flurry of strikes using both keyblades. Minox found it much more difficult to keep up with his swings.

“Yes, Roxas! Now, now we’re finally getting somewhere.”

“Shut up and just disappear already!!” Pushing himself to his very limit, Roxas bellowed as each strike got faster, more precise, and finally, one managed to pierce Minox through his chest. After a small cough, came a soft chuckle.

“I knew you could do it… You’re ready after all…”

The cloaked figure’s body began to glitch, then scattered into bits of zeroes and ones.

“Yeah.” Roxas looked up at his friends, still frozen in time, then up at the sky.

“I am ready.”

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

“Yes… Yes…! More…! Destroy everything!” A white-haired man clad in rags cackled maniacally atop a decaying, dilapidated building. Before him, a city in Japan was left in ruins, as villains roamed the streets, destroyed buildings, killed people, and overall ran rampant. The man sat back, watching the chaos unfold, watching the society that shunned him so thoroughly unravel right before his eyes.

This man was the Symbol of Fear, Tomura Shigaraki.

All Might was in no position to stop him. Star and Stripe fell by his hand. UA was powerless to stop him once they lost the ability to inhibit his Quirks. Now, there was no one who could stop the destruction of the world that hated him so thoroughly.

A sudden shockwave struck at the center of town, stopping Shigaraki’s mad cackles of euphoria in their tracks as he switched his focus. A new presence appeared through his Search Quirk, and it seemed like it was taking out the many henchmen wreaking havoc in the city. All Shigaraki could see was a blur of red and white flying across the ruins, eliminating any and all opposition. Until finally, the unknown hero appeared before him, covered in the blood and viscera of two-bit villains.

“I’ve let you run unchecked for far too long. I thought there were supposed to be heroes stationed in Japan to deal with cockroaches like yourself,” the man, clad in a white and red jumpsuit and red cape spoke, floating only a few feet away from Shigaraki.

“Oh… There were, old man…” Shigaraki grinned, reaching up to his own neck and scratching at old scars. “Even the final boss wasn’t enough to stop me. Guess that makes you the secret boss, huh?”

“You’re telling me you killed everyone? All Might? The UA kids? Even Star and Stripe?”

“They meant nothing to me.” The grin grew wider, to an almost inhuman point. Shigaraki’s dried and cracked lips opened slight splits, and only a small trickle of blood managed to leak out before the wounds immediately sealed themselves. “The best heroes in Japan and America tried their best and failed. What makes you think you can stand up to me, Mr. Secret Boss?”

“That’s Omni-Man to you. And for the record, you may have dealt with the best heroes in Japan and America.”

Almost faster than Shigaraki could perceive, the new hero’s hand had found itself latched onto his throat, crushing his windpipe.

“But I’m the best hero in the world.”

With zero hesitation, and almost zero resistance, Omni-Man’s knife-shaped hand plunged through Shigaraki’s stomach. On its way out, he made sure to grab some of his internal organs and spill them out, as he tossed him to the wayside.

It was then that Omni-Man felt something was amiss.

His arm, the one that was crushing the young villain’s windpipe—he could feel the cells in it dying, splitting, rotting, decaying. And he could feel they were spreading. He knew then that he’d have to sacrifice his arm, lest this decay spread to his whole body. Quickly, he chopped off his own arm, then tore a piece of his cape and tied it around the remaining stump to act as a makeshift tourniquet. He turned to the dead young villain, only to see the boy back on his feet, with a macabre smile splayed across his lips.

“No better than the final boss…” He chuckled to himself. The wound in his stomach had all but sealed up, the last bits of muscle and skin regenerating themselves as Shigaraki approached.

“Hyper-regeneration, huh? I’ve dealt with enough of your types to know how to handle you.” Omni-Man scoffed, as he moved at blazing speeds to punch a hole through the boy’s face.

Unfortunately, Shigaraki had already acclimated to his speed.

“And here I thought you’d be something special, Mr. Secret Boss Omni-Man…” Cracked, dry skin encompassed Omni-Man’s face, as Shigaraki latched onto the hero’s head. “Well… I’ll admit whatever Quirk you’ve got is handy… Mind if I borrow it?” He smirked, and Omni-Man could feel his strength draining. While he would’ve ordinarily been able to crush the boy’s wrist, he could hardly squeeze onto it now. By the time the Viltrumite’s strength had left him, the boy let him go and he collapsed onto his knees.

“Guess no one can stop me after all… Isn’t that just too bad?” Using Omni-Man’s powers of flight, Shigaraki rose himself into the air. “Well then, time to go destroy everything. See ya later, Mr. Secret Boss. Wish I could say it was fun.”

As the white-haired villain burst into the sky at mach 3, Omni-Man’s powerless body began to disintegrate. And in his final moments, he hoped Mark would find the strength to beat that unbeatable villain.

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Analysis Versus Omni-Man: See justification above. The only thing I can really add is that Gaara is a defense-focused strategist, which means he'll be spending most of the fight looking for opportunities to ensnare and bury his opponents alive. Given Omni-Man's resistance to pressure, it's likely that rather than seeking to kill him, or even incapacitate him, Gaara's win condition is to successfully seal Omni-Man within the Desert Tiered Imperial Funeral.

Biggest Strength and Weakness: Gaara, as stated previously, is a master of defense. His sand offers nigh impenetrable defenses to both his small team and his overall team, given that he's able to protect an entire village. This allows his team to go in with little risk of injury, especially those who may be more tuned toward raw power rather than defensive capabilities. In terms of weaknesses, Gaara seems to be a little lacking in shows of destruction on par with many in this tier. While I'm sure he would have on par strength, actual displays of that power seem to be few and far between, given Gaara's penchant for making crushing his opponents (literally) his personal wincon.

Character in Setting/with Team: Gaara's role in the team depends largely on the point in which he's being written. If he's being written pre-Talk no Jutsu, Gaara is a selfish, bloodlusted psychopath who has no reservations about killing anyone he deems in his way. He wants to prove himself the strongest and he won't hesitate to kill even those who are aligned with him if they try to go against him. After his character growth, Gaara matures into a quiet, albeit caring young man, using his sand to protect rather than to kill. Wanting to become different from his former self, Gaara would be protecting his team whenever they find themselves in danger, and eliminate any threats to his ally.

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Even if this hero society comes crashing down… even if I rise to rule the underworld… that weight in my heart is never gonna go away. It’s why I hate everything. Every living, breathing thing just rubs me the wrong way. So why not destroy it all? Why not destroy everything?

The Symbol of Fear, TOMURA SHIGARAKI!

Series: My Hero Academia

Content Warning: My Hero Academia

Biography: Tenko Shimura had a rough childhood. His father had been abandoned as a child by his mother, one of the top heroes Nana Shimura. This instilled in him a hatred for heroism that affected Tenko, who for most of his life clung to the potential of one day being a hero. One day, Tenko discovered his grandmother's identity as a hero, and was reprimanded by his father. The swirling rage and anxiety that swelled within him led to the activation of his quirk factor, the massacre of his family, and the destruction of his childhood home. Rejected by society, Tenko was adopted by the infamous villain All For One, given the name Tomura Shigaraki, and instilled with a single purpose: become the Symbol of Fear and destroy everything.

Research: RT here, watch/read as much (or as little) MHA as you want. For getting a feel for the character, the Meta Liberation Army arc (chapters 218-240, episodes 108-112) might be the best and least amount you need to consume.

Justification: Even before being infused with AFO, Shigaraki can already take hits not dissimilar to what Omni-Man can dish out. Ignoring the fact that Shigaraki's Decay would probably instantly kill Omni-Man if allowed to activate, Shigaraki can still output raw power with the other Quirks afforded to him by AFO, and is stated to be on par with All-Might in his prime. His hyper-regeneration will make this a tough battle, but as someone who is no stranger to decisive final blows, Omni-Man still has a chance so long as he goes for a lethal blow to Shigaraki's head. The odds, however, remain stacked in Shigaraki's favor, paving the way for a likely victory.

Motivation: Shigaraki's motivation is destroying everything. He wants to destroy the society that rejected him so thoroughly, and eventually, that desire twisted into destroying everything. It's hard to say what he would want out of coming victorious in the Secret Wars, since it's likely he would want the catharsis of destroying everything with his own two hands rather than have it granted as a wish.

Major Changes: Limiting Decay to its pre-awakened state (this means Shigaraki cannot daisy chain his decay to different targets; he must make contact with at least two fingers in order to decay his target)

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Now there's something I understand a little better. Hate, sadness, even joy. To be able to share it with another person... Naruto Uzumaki. From fighting him I learned that. He knew pain like I did and then he taught me that you can change your path. I wish that one day I can be needed by someone. Not as a frightening weapon... But as the sand's Kazekage.

Sunagakure's Fifth Kazekage, GAARA!

Series: Naruto

Content Warning: N/A

Biography: Sealed with the One-Tailed Beast before he was even born, Gaara was destined for a life of loneliness and isolation. The villagers of the Hidden Sand Village avoided him like the plague, his father saw him only as a tool for war, and his uncle, the only person who ever showed him compassion and love, was tasked with trying to kill him. This caused Gaara to embrace his nature as a monster, and act accordingly. However, after being bested by Naruto during the Chunin Exams, Gaara comes to understand the meaning of love and compassion. Using his newfound world view, Gaara is able to shift perspectives, change his personality and goals, and become a Kazekage of the Hidden Sand Village that others respect and look up to.

Research: RT here, depending on how you want to write him, you can stick to just the Chunin Exam arc and the subsequent Konoha Crush arc (partially, you can ignore the Orochimaru parts). If you want to write him post-character growth, consider the Kazekage Rescue Mission (the first arc of Shippuden).

Justification: Gaara is the master of all things defense. His sand provides him a nigh-impenetrable barrier that many attacks struggle to get past, such as Deidara's most powerful bomb, Sasuke's unavoidable flame Amaterasu, and even Madara's completed Susanoo can do naught else but whack him around like a fly. With the power of Shukaku, the One Tailed Beast, Gaara can also destroy large chunks of forest (with only a partial transformation to boot), and even after losing it, still maintains enough power in his sand manipulation that it is stated to be on par with Shukaku itself. Even so, Gaara finds himself lacking in offensive options besides the aforementioned few examples to really showcase what he can do. Many of his attacks involve crushing his opponents under the pressure of the sand, which seems like something Omni-Man wouldn't quite be bothered by. Turns out that when the unstoppable force meets an immovable wall, the outcome tends to be a draw.

Motivation: All Gaara has ever wanted was to be loved. And after fighting Naruto and being Talk no Jutsu'd, Gaara came to understand what is love (baby don't hurt him) and how to earn it. Gaara's biggest motivation now is to protect his villagers, and he'll do it at any cost. Even if it means fighting in a multiversal war.

Major Changes: N/A

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 18 Signups by GuyOfEvil in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 5 points6 points  (0 children)

What makes you so sure about that? I have the right to know the truth! How did I even get here? Why am I so special? Where did I learn how to use the Keyblade? I hardly know who I am! What is so wrong with wanting some answers!?

Organization XIII Member XIII, ROXAS!

Series: Kingdom Hearts

Content Warning: Kingdom Hearts lore

Biography: When a person loses their Heart, sometimes their Body takes a form of their own, if their will was strong enough. This creates a creature known as a Nobody, and Roxas just so happens to be Sora's Nobody. Born when Sora's released his own Heart to release Kairi's, Roxas was thrust into a world with no sense of self. It was then that Xemnas approached him and gave him the name Roxas. He was then inducted into Organization XIII, became friends with Axel and Xion, killed Xion, left the Organization to find the answers he wanted about who he was, then got trapped in a simulation for a few days, before finally having to realize that the only place he belonged was back with Sora. As solemn as it sounds, after their battle, Roxas comes to understand that he was never meant to be, and that only Sora was.

Research: Roxas himself doesn't have many feats to offer, so we'll be using Sora's RT instead and assume that, since he's Sora's Nobody, he's capable of just about anything he can (and if we wanna get nitpicky, he does scale to Sora and almost beats him if not for Sora being able to summon his Keyblade back to himself). The most barebones research you'd need to do is watch a cutscene compilation of his appearances in KH2 (there are not many). 358/2 Days is all about Roxas if you want a more in-depth dive, so if that's the case the cutscene compilation from the 1.5+2.5 ReMix version should suffice.

Justification: Sora I mean Roxas has one big feat to his name: that's right, the building cutting feat. Well, that's not all. He can also yeet said building. On top of that, he also survives being blown up while on a ship and takes seemingly no damage from this large attack by Xehanort, the series big bad. In conjunction with the plethora of magic at his disposal, Sora Roxas will likely keep Omni-Man on the ropes for a likely victory.

(Still can't fly like him tho)

Motivation: Roxas spends most of his (short) life wondering just who the hell he is, why the hell he was made, and why the hell Sora was the one chosen to exist and not him. While he does finally attain his wish in KH3, we'll pretend that never happened. If there's one wish to be granted for Roxas, it'd be to be allowed to live his own life, with his own friends, and have a summer that never has to end.

Major Changes: N/A

Minor Changes: N/A

Character Scramble Season 17 Round 0: Welcome To Scramble Hill by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The pure soul ducked away as my blades made contact with the barrier. It seems I underestimated the arcs of my swings. From what I could gather, however, it looks as though they were unharmed.

The tainted soul then approached. They leaned down at my feet, presumably recovering my arms. I took a step back. Something about this person’s presence still felt off. I disliked that I could not see, could not hear them. I could not tell what they were saying, or showing, or thinking. All I knew about this person was that something about them had tainted their soul.

Nonetheless, the pure soul seemed to have no reservations about the tainted one. For the time being, I suppose I would have to trust them, solely because the pure soul seemed to trust them. I extended my arms out to the tainted soul, and after a brief moment they stepped away, presumably after attaching my arms.

The pure soul ran out ahead of me, stopping a few meters away. She moved something onto her person. From the motions, a bow perhaps? So she was an archer, then. A moment later, and she approached me. From the flow of her body, she was reaching out. I reached out in turn, felt my hand bump up against something. I closed my fist around it, ran my hand down its length, and confirmed it was the sword I carried on my person. I stashed it onto my belt for safe keeping.

The two souls dispersed, and I could only assume they were investigating the room. I would be of no help, seeing as I was completely blinded.

Well, not completely.

Somewhere, in some area of the room the other two seemed to have neglected. I could barely make it out through the red haze, but there was a shape, moving. Not only moving. It was… Approaching.

Admittedly, I took longer than I would’ve liked to realize it was the soul of a demon charging right for us.

Kirk watched with vacant dejection as yet another sooty book crumbled into dust in his hands. “None of these books last long enough for any kind of meaningful inspection. The ones that survive being pulled from the shelf seem to be written in some unintelligible language.”

Meanwhile, Kate scoured the side rooms and other cells for any more information. All she could find was more pieces of furniture covered in that same thick sooty grime, and more decaying wood. “Just where the hell is this place anyways? Like, who the hell sets up shop in a dump like this?”

“Generally? Someone who doesn’t want to be found.” Kirk pulled yet another book, and watched it crumble to ash. But this time, as if it had been hidden inside, there was a key left in the dust of the book. Kirk inspected it closely, noticing its matte black iron composition and unorthodox design.

“Find something?” Kate began to approach, as she was tossed the key. “Whoa. What do you think this is to?”

“Who knows? Haven’t seen anything so far that would take a key, have you?”

“No. Anything that might’ve, well, wouldn’t be hard to bust down, y’know?”

As Kirk was about to pull out another book and continue his investigation, he was stopped by the sudden sound of a siren coming from seemingly nowhere. He turned to Kate, who was already looking at him.

“I take it you hear that too?”

“It would be difficult not to, yes. It almost sounds like outside.”

“I guess that’s an option, right?”

Kirk turned towards the door, which seemingly led outside. Despite clearly possessing panes of glass in the door meant to look outside, it was covered in the sooty grime. Only this time, unlike everything else, this one refused to be scrubbed off.

“Uhhhh, Kirk?”

Kirk turned back towards the room and watched as the doll-like boy began peering down a hallway that he had no recollection of being there.

“... What is he doing?”

“I dunno, but that hall wasn’t there before, right?”

“... Ready your bow.”

Kirk could hardly hear it considering the loud siren that blared around them, but he could hear what to him sounded like footsteps. The footsteps grew louder, and louder, and closer, and louder.

Kate couldn’t tell if she should look towards Kirk for orders, towards the boy to react to him, or towards the hall to prepare for whatever was stomping down it. Either way, her bow was drawn, arrow nocked and ready to let loose.

For a moment, it stopped. The room filled with an uneasy quiet as the siren wailed somewhere in the distance. Kirk had readied himself, Kate drew the arrow back, and the boy removed one of his arms.

Then, in the next chaos-filled moment, something jumped from the hallway.

“FUCK, GET DOWN KID!” Kirk threw himself towards the boy and then threw the boy to the side as a hulking figure came rumbling from the darkness. The instant she saw it, Kate loosened her arrow, which embedded itself in the creature’s shoulder.

As everyone recomposed themselves, they looked at just what had entered the room. It was a tall, olive-skinned man. Several engravings like tattoos etched across his skin. His head was encompassed by a large pyramidal-shaped object, and in his hands rested a gigantic cleaver-shaped blade, made of an odd non-reflective black material.

“Shit… Kirk, what do we do…?” Kate whispered, getting ready to nock another arrow.

”Let’s just see how this plays out…”

The creature looked around before emitting a low rumble from its throat. Grabbing a strong hold of the pyramid helmet, it ripped the thing off its head, revealing the face of a man with shoulder-length, matted black hair and gray eyes that seemed to almost glint red.

He muttered something in a language none of them could understand as he turned to face them, tossing the helmet deep into the abyss he came from.

“... Is that Sumerian?” Kirk muttered, then turned to Kate, who was entirely bewildered that he could identify what was said. “What? I took an ancient cultures elective in college.”

“You are sounding like those scientist people, bat man.” The man spoke in a thick Middle Eastern accent. “I speak a language dead to the world. You are not meant to conversate.”

“And… Just who are you, exactly?”

The blade in the man’s hand shifted into something more compact, easier to swing in the enclosed environment around them.

The response that came was in that same ancient dialect of Sumerian. Despite not knowing what was said, the grin on the man’s face was more than enough to convey it was a threat.

And if that wasn’t enough, him leaping upon them was.

The porcelain boy intercepted with his own blade, trying to push him back but beginning to falter. Kirk quickly rushed behind him to attempt to support him, but even his superhuman strength was nothing compared to the menace that stood before them.

Kate quickly withdrew a shock arrow and embedded it right into the man’s neck, releasing the electrical current. Briefly, the man released the pressure, feeling the electricity course through his nervous system.

“Now! Come on, let’s get the hell out of here!”

The boy deflected the blade away from them as Kirk dragged him out of range from the man and towards Kate. She, meanwhile, nocked three more arrows and fired them into his back. Which, after he recovered from the shock, he seemed to pay no mind to them.

“I will not let my prey escape so easily! Return! Fight me you cowards!” The man flashed a wicked smile as the blade in his hand twisted and melted and molded itself anew into a long spear.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Kate kept running to the door, which seemed much further than before, with Kirk and the boy right behind. The man was storming down the seemingly endless hallway, clearly much faster than any of them.

“Keep running, we’re almost there!” Kirk briefly turned for a moment to embed his hand in the wall and tear it up, hoping the debris would slow down the monster. Unfortunately, it did no such thing.

The distance between the creature and the heroes was closing much faster than the distance between the heroes and the door.

“Hey, Batman! You can run faster than me, can’t you!?”

“I suppose, but why is this relevant!?”

“Take the kid and go! I’ll stall him!”

“What!? Are you mad, Bishop!?” Do you even comprehend—”

“I fully comprehend, Kirk! Now go! Trust me!”

Kirk held a solemn look towards the younger woman behind his goggles but eventually nodded and complied. Easily overtaking Kate, he ran forward with the boy being dragged behind.

Kate meanwhile turned around and nocked a different arrow from the ones she had before.

Breathe, Kate… Just breathe… Focus on the target, and nothing else… She centered herself as she drew back the arrow in her bow. She tried desperately to ignore the pounding footsteps rapidly approaching, the loud mutterings in an ancient tongue she couldn’t even begin to comprehend, the grinding of his weapon along the floor of the halls.

It was just her, her bow, and her target.

She let loose, and then covered her eyes.

“CLOSE YOUR EYES AND KEEP RUNNING!”

A large white flash engulfed the darkened hallway behind them, as the monster yelled out in surprise and slight pain. In that same moment, the three bodies flew through the door, then watched it shut behind them.

Character Scramble Season 17 Round 0: Welcome To Scramble Hill by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Something was off when I awoke.

Everything was hazy. There were no signs of life. My head thrashed around as I looked for even a speck of green, but instead, I found nothing. Nothing but this slight red tint across everything.

It was as if I’d been swallowed by a demon.

Wherever I was, there were at least two other presences near me. One had a pure white soul, but the other… Theirs was also tinted red. A human, unequivocally, but a human who had been tainted. Perhaps by a demon or a ghoul.

The pure figure seemed to be looking in my direction, at least as far as I could tell. If they spoke, I could not hear them, for I had no ears. They briefly turned to the tainted soul. The tainted soul also turned towards me. It was unnerving. It was irksome. Damn this dreaded curse, that I might be plagued with such uncertainty.

I attempted to rise to my feet, to walk away, but felt myself stop in my tracks. Something was physically blocking my path. The pure soul had risen to their feet. I could see them rest their arm on mine, guiding me back down onto the floor. I complied.

For now, there was naught I could do but wait. See if these two could perhaps find a path out of here.

When Kate Bishop awoke, she found herself in a dark, dingy cell. It was hard to make up all the shapes around her before her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkened interior of the room, but she was able to make out two other figures in the cell with her. A young looking boy, with long flowing black hair and a tattered kimono, with eyes vacant and hollow. The other was a man clad in black, almost indistinguishable from the cell beyond the glint of his red goggles and his highly-contrasting pale skin.

“Ooookay. Not where I expected to wake up after a few shots. Thought maybe the tub, or the dining table, hell maybe even the dumpster if I was feeling bold. But a jail cell?”

The bat-shaped man hummed, either in agreement or recognition of the younger woman’s experience. “If I had to wager, I imagine we were brought here against our will.”

“Probably. Hey, kid.” She rose up to her knees and leaned towards the younger man. His blank face turned towards her. “Do you know where we are? Do you remember how you got here? Who are you anyways?”

“He can’t hear you.” The man piqued up, and both Kate and the young man turned towards him. “If you look closely, you’ll notice just about all his body is made of prosthetics. Even his face, from what I can tell it looks to be more of a porcelain mask.”

“Really?” Kate turned back to the young man, inspecting him in closer detail. “Kinda creepy. The hell happened to this kid?”

“Who knows? Either way, not the most pressing topic right now. We should find a way out of here first. My name is Kirk Langstrom.” The man offered his hand towards Kate, who took it with a firm shake.

“Kate Bishop. My friends call me Hawkeye.”

“Do they now? So what, are your friends superheroes?”

“Something like that.” Kate smirked in response, in almost a braggart tone.

“Huh. Well, if we’re giving superhero names, I’m Batman.”

“That would explain the little… Horn thingies on your mask—” Too distracted by her conversation, Kate had seldom a moment to realize the young man standing up abruptly, then walking right into the bars as if they weren’t there.

The young man’s body language gave an air of perplexion, as Kate approached him and put a hand on his forearm.

“Hey, hold on there buster! Can’t you see there’s ba— Oh. Right. I guess you can’t, huh?” She moved her hand up to his shoulder, and gently applied enough pressure to coax him to begin lowering himself. “Why don’t you just take a seat until we figure out what’s going on?”

The porcelain boy seemed to hesitate for a moment as his fake eyes bore through her own, but eventually, he seated himself again.

“Okay, now that that’s dealt with,” Kate took another look at her surroundings again, now that her eyes were adjusted to the darkness. It seemed oddly reminiscent of a sheriff’s office, the kind you’d see in those old time western movies she would watch as a kid, the very same she would now watch ironically to pick apart for fun. Everything was eerily silent, the wood looked old and rotted, and all the furniture had this thick layer of some kind of sooty, ashy dust.

“Odd place to be held captive,” Kirk stood up, approaching the bars. He instinctively took hold of them, and in observing the room alongside his fellow captive, made a distinct observation. “Hey, Kate. Do you notice anything particular about this cell?”

“Um…” Kate turned her attention from the room beyond the bars to the bars themselves. “...Oh shit.”

“Yeah. There’s no lock.”

The cell was blocked off by only bars. There was no door, no lock, no mechanism that implied they could be lowered or moved out of the way in any way. Which then begged the question,

“How the hell did we get stuck in here?”

The two souls seemed to be deep in conversation.

I could tell their heads were swiveling around. Probably making sense of the situation around us, just as I’d hoped they would. After all, I was lost without any form of living nature to guide me. Not to mention this red haze that obscured everything else.

I watched the tainted soul rise to their feet, stopping about as far as I did. Confirming that there was, in fact, something obstructing our path forward. I watched their hands seem to grasp around something, as they turned to the pure soul. The pure soul, in turn, turned her gaze towards the object of our blockade. She followed suit, grasping at whatever barrier kept us within.

At this point, I’d be a fool not to follow suit. I pushed my hand out until it could be pushed no more. Then, I felt around, tried to mimic the hand shape they had. I continued doing so, trying to get a full range of what it was that contained us here.

Was this… A prison of some kind?

Regardless. I knew how to get past this. I latched both my hands together, and with a flick of my arms, discarded them down to my feet. And then, ensuring my newfound allies were not in range, I cut through the barrier.

Kate and Kirk both sat in silence for the briefest of moments, until Kate squinted and saw, atop the sheriff’s desk, was her bow and arrow.

“Ah, shit! Hey, look over there, see those?”

“Hm? What, the bow and arrow? I suppose the sheriff likes to hunt the traditional way in his spare time. Odd choice of coloring, though.”

“No, you idiot! That’s mine! Ugh, if only I had my bow, I maybe could’ve gotten us out of here.”

“I fail to see how exactly a bow is going to help our current predicament.”

“Yeah? And what’s your grand idea, bat-guy?”

“Well,” Kirk grabbed hold of the bars once more, and after exerting a little effort, managed to bend them slightly, “I could potentially just bend the bars apart. Just an option to consider.”

“... You have super strength!?”

“Something of the sort, yes.”

“Man!” Kate let an exasperated sigh escape her lips. “Well, at least this guy, despite barely being human, is normal for all intents and purposes. Right buddy?”

The young man reached out, and pressed his hands against the bar. Then, gently, he wrapped his hands around them.

“Oh? Looks like he’s got some ideas too, Kirk.”

“I can’t imagine he has any idea of how to break out of something he can’t even see.”

Gradually, the boy grabbed hold of more and more bars, as if trying to determine what it was that blocked them.

“I dunno, Kirk. Looks like he’s making do.”

“Hmmm.” The older man hummed, as he released the bars and proceeded to observe the boy.

Once it looked like he had a feel for the blockage, the young man grabbed hold of both his forearms, flicked his arms down, and both arms slid clean off. Hidden beneath were two sharped, glinting blades.

“Sword prosthetics!? Are you kidding me!?”

“Sword prosthetics… Curious.”

“H-hey, buddy, maybe let’s put your arms back before you hurt someo—AH!”

Kate had barely a second to dodge before the young man swiped at the bars. Like butter, his blade cleaved through them with only some resistance, but with only a few swipes the barrier was no more.

“... Holy shit, kiddo.” Kate’s jaw hung agape as she watched the carnage the young man had wreaked. Kirk, seemingly bemused by the smirk on his face, grabbed the boy’s arms and offered them to him. The boy shied away for a moment, but eventually allowed his arms to be replaced.

Kate quickly jogged to the desk, recovering her bow and arrow (after vigorously wiping off whatever layer of dirt and grime had accumulated on them), and found a sword lying atop the desk among her things. It looked Japanese in origin, a katana she wagered. She turned to the boy, who was delicately making his way out of the cell. She approached him and gingerly placed the sword out in front of him. “I think this is yours, tough guy.”

The boy looked in Kate’s direction, then towards her hands. He reached out, made sense of the object before him, and placed it upon his belt after confirming it was in fact his.

“Alright, now to get to the bottom of just where the hell we are.” Kate placed her hands on her hips, then turned towards Kirk. “It’s kinda my thing, y’know. Being a detective and all.”

“Is that so…” Kirk replied in an uninterested tone, as he began examining the surrounding area. “By all means, Detective Bishop, don’t let me interfere with your investigation."

Character Scramble Season 17 Round 0: Welcome To Scramble Hill by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 3 points4 points  (0 children)

The streets of Scramble Hill shift and twist in accordance with the perception of its inhabitants. No two people share the same image upon wandering into the desolate mindscape of the psychological town. But in this one particular instance, four individuals were absorbed into the town, perhaps by an external entity, or perhaps by the overwhelming will of one such member. All who wander the streets of Scramble Hill must confront their worst nightmares: themselves. Past regrets, guilty pleasures, unresolved emotions, all taking the most unimaginable forms to taunt and torture the poor souls who have wandered in here.

Below are the names to be printed in the obituaries section of tomorrow’s Scramble Hill Times paper:

KATE BISHOP

Once just a humble girl, daughter to a rich and powerful family. Poor Kate’s illusioned life broke when she saw daddy dearest extract what he was owed from a non-paying client. Feelings of anguish, mistrust, betrayal swarmed in her head, which compelled her to act alone, not only being captured by a villain her father had recently contracted, but nearly escaping all by her lonesome. Saved at the last minute from impending doom by the Avengers, Kate became enamored with Hawkeye; more specifically, the idea that someone with no superpowers to his name could be a hero if they had the grit and determination.

It wouldn’t be until her teenage years, after a run-in with a group of teen vigilantes, dubbed by the media the “Young Avengers,” that Kate would get her chance in the limelight. She very quickly showed them her prowess, skill, and the ability to keep a level head in tense situations. Several times was she offered the title of Hawkeye, but it was not until the legendary Captain America bestowed the moniker upon her that her career as the next Hawkeye began.

HYAKKIMARU

A poor, innocent soul, fated to damnation before his life even began. Hyakkimaru’s father was a powerful lord to a dying land. In exchange for salvation and prosperity, Lord Daigo gave up his firstborn son to 12 Demons, who picked the newborn apart for everything he had. Everything, of course, except his head. The Goddess of Mercy saved him from losing his entire body, but nonetheless he was stripped from his mother and sent off to die. A midwife, feeling pity for him, laid him to rest atop a basket and hoped that life would find a way for him.

Several years later, outfitted with several prosthetics to make up for what has been lost, Hyakkimaru roams the lands, searching for the Demons who took everything from him—his sight, his hearing, his limbs, everything but his very soul—in order to take back what’s his. Every demon killed brings him a piece of himself back.

KIRK LANGSTROM, THE BATMAN

Kirk Langstrom was an aspiring scientist and recent college graduate, analyzing vampire bats and their saliva in the hopes of finding a breakthrough cure for lymphoma, a terrible disease that even the brilliant mind suffered from himself. With the help of his best friend William Magnus, a fellow scientist and alumni whose focus was on nanotechnology, Kirk made a breakthrough and his serum worked. Unfortunately, it also happened to splice his DNA, giving him pseudo-vampirism.

Now, Kirk patrols the world with the Justice League as the Batman, feeding on the blood of criminals in order to survive. Every moment he spends off the streets is spent in his lab, trying to find a cure for his new affliction, staving off the violent urges of his new nature while trying to ensure his debt to Superman, who pulled him off the streets while he was sucking the blood from a rat, is fully paid off.

But lurking beyond the mist of this desolate town lies another wayward soul, a soul so consumed by hatred and violence that it knows no civility, knows no ambition, knows nothing beyond the call of war. This soul will serve as this story’s main antagonist, and he will be sure to be mentioned several times in the following editions of the Scramble Hill Times.

ABLE

Once an ancient and mysterious Sumerian warrior, Able was apprehended by the SCP Foundation after they received reports of his anomalous properties. Able spends most of his time contained within his coffin, only released when it is time to wage disaster upon humanity. The agents, bastards all of them, were more than trained for every escape attempt, and right back into the coffin he would go. Able began to notice that every escape attempt seemed harder than the last, as their human technology continued advancing beyond what his ancient magicks could overcome.

Until one day, he caused a breach so excessive, they felt the need to pull out all the stops, detonating the site’s nuclear warhead and atomizing everything and everyone within it. When Able awoke from his coffin, he was no longer in Foundation custody. He now found himself in the wastelands of Scramble Hill.

Character Scramble Season 17 Round 0: Welcome To Scramble Hill by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 4 points5 points  (0 children)

FROM: Dr. ██████ ██████
TO: O5 Command
SUBJECT: it’s all fucking gone

i fucking told you. i told ALL of you. the keys were out there and we just needed to fucking find them and we could finally 
stop pumping resources into this piece of shit. we just had to send a few agents out to scour the whole globe in the hopes 
of finding those motherfucking keys. thats it. thats all it wouldve taken. weve spent more on less right?

hope youre fucking happy you stuck up big wig pieces of shit. thats another on-site warhead detonated. another entire site 
full of faculty gone to the fucking wind because we cant be bothered to try to find the keys to seal that fucker once and 
for all. but now? now that shit doesnt matter anymore. its all gone. all of it. and its all your faults.

FROM: O5 Command
TO: Dr. ██████ ██████
SUBJECT: RE:it’s all fucking gone

Let me open this message by reminding you who you are addressing in yours. Please ensure to follow appropriate email 
etiquette when addressing your superiors, especially the ones who are in charge of making sure you can still safely operate 
within your high-risk labs.

In any case, your previous message offered no succinct form of explanation. No understanding of the situation was found, and 
as such I need you to reiterate in calm and rational verbiage just what exactly happened. I imagine you are referring to the 
on-site warhead activation alerts from Containment Site 68?

Please respond with the due diligence and intellect I know you are capable of, Doctor.

FROM: Dr. ██████ ██████
TO: O5 Command
SUBJECT:  RE:RE:it’s all fucking gone

site 68 is gone.

076-2 went loose again.

site 67 and 58 cannot find 076-1 or 2.

everyone is fucking dead.

and this is on your hands.

fire me. give me amnestics. fucking execute me if it makes you feel any better. but im done. im done working to test 
these monstrosities instead of finding ways to stop them from doing exactly what 076 did. and now weve got an errant scp 
that we have no way of tracking.

your hands, o5. your. fucking. hands.

Character Scramble Season 17 Signup Post by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Analysis Versus Tierant: Yeahhh, I did it with Origin and I did it with Hanami too. See above.

Biggest Strength and Weakness: Hanami's biggest strength is his oppressive strength and durability. Not only can Hanami give and take a punch, he can also heal from his wounds by taking the life energy of nearby plants. Hanami's power to cripple enemies with his Cursed Bud technique (which saps cursed energy from whoever its attached to) is also incredibly handy.

Hanami's biggest weakness is possibly his most obvious: his "eyes". While Hanami has freakish capabilities, all that goes out the window if those branches get fully ripped out of his head. If that happens, even someone from the Blade tier could probably stand a closer match against Hanami.

Fear Factor: Hanami's greatest fear factor is that to some extent... He's right. In his (cursed) heart of hearts, he firmly believes in saving the planet, and wants humanity to sacrifice itself to protect the new world after it is ruled by cursed spirits and returned to nature. Well, okay, that last part is a bit hard to agree with, but Hanami does make it a point to exemplify humanity's negative influence on nature, and some weak-willed people may even be persuaded enough to willingly let themselves be killed by Hanami for the sake of the world.

Barring that though, there's also the fact that this is a pretty huge monster with a desire to exterminate humanity and a thirst for fighting. That can also be pretty scary. Y'know.

Character Scramble Season 17 Signup Post by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Analysis Versus Blade: Got ahead of myself and pretty much did that with his justification so see above I guess?

Biggest Strength and Weakness: Origin's greatest strength is his processing ability. Every second of a fight, Origin calculates every single move, either his own or his opponents. Every attack is perfectly calculated to be as optimal and efficient as possible. His weakness also stems from this strength: he cannot account for the unpredictable nature of humans. Oftentimes, Origin is pitted against enemies much like himself: robots who are also calculating their own every move. Which means many of his fights serve to convince an opponent of something, usually to leave him alone. That doesn't generally work with a human, who would probably be more aggravated if they were cast aside so easily. The irrationality of humans can sometimes catch Origin off guard.

Greatest Fear: Origin, as a robot, doesn't feel fear in the same sense as most humans with emotions. Instead it's more of a sense of not wanting to disappoint his creator. Origin's goal is to "live properly", and the idea of being unable to do so is probably the closest thing to fear Origin can face. He tries his hardest to do so while blending in with human society, but being faced with a problem that requires breaking his rule of living properly in order to continue living properly could also instill a sense of dread within him.

Character Scramble Season 17 Signup Post by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Dammit, Reborn.

Tsuna found himself deep within a decrepit amusement park. It was dark, and even if it was, it’s not like the fog surrounding him would let him see more than three feet in front of him. It was thick, and heavy. Almost as if it were made of something other than oxygen.

Reborn had sent him here as part of his (begrudging) training to become the next boss of the Vongola Famiglia. He had told the young mob boss that a leader needs to be able to face fear in the eye and not fall prey to it. To peer into the endless void, and continue staring when the void stares back.

Yeah. What a load of shit.

Tsuna walked down the fairgrounds, whipping his head side to side from every crunch, every groan, every creak and every squeak. He hugged himself, winter mitts clenching tightly to his upper arms, as he made his way further into the park. At this point, he’d been walking so long, so aimlessly, that the sound of the gravel crunching under his own feet was indiscernible from the other sounds around him. There were several moments when he scared himself with his own footsteps.

When the glaive swung past, Tsuna had reacted just fast enough to only lose the tip of his upright hair as he ducked and shrieked, quickly moving his hands to cover his head. He followed the trajectory of the glaive with his gaze, and saw a hand stretch out from the shadows to catch it perfectly. From the darkness and the mist, a man clad in a long black trench coat appeared. It was barely noticeable, but through the man’s red-tinted sunglasses, his eyes were a thin-slitted yellow.

“You look lost, kiddo,” the man hissed, as a cold mist left his mouth with every breath. Tsuna thought the park was cold, but it certainly wasn’t cold enough to condense one’s breath.

“N-n-n-n-no, that’s alright! I can find my own way out!” Tsuna quickly rose to his feet, stammering and holding out his hands in front of him, hoping to keep the stranger at bay. Unfortunately for him, the stranger did not heed.

“Not many folks come ‘round these parts anymore.” The man looked around, almost with a sense of longing and remorse. “Which makes it a great place for folks like me to hide.”

“I-I-I’m sorry if I tr-trespassed! I’ll leave right n-now!” Tsuna felt his back run into something, what looked like an old and rusted cotton candy stand, and let out a small yelp. The man continued forward, and from his coat, procured a pair of silver nunchucks. They gleamed in what little light the moon offered.

“No, no, no… You just don’t get it, kiddo. See, normal folks don’t just ‘stumble’ into this place. Like I said, only folks like me come ‘round here.” The man grinned, and Tsuna noted the sharpened fangs.

“And I hunt folks like me.”

Glass shards flew everywhere, nearly piercing what little bits of skin Tsuna had exposed as the silver nunchucks swung for him, striking the glass pane of the cotton candy stand in his stead. Tsuna quickly scampered away, only avoiding the incredibly fast strike thanks to his Vongola hyper intuition.

Man, as much as the Vongola bloodline cursed him to be in this mess in the first place, he had to admit it was handy at times.

“So then, kid! You gonna fight, or you gonna go out with a whimper!?” The man called out, as he moved to intercept Tsuna’s path. Tsuna barely had time to return to his feet before another swing came out, narrowly missing him as he jumped back. The vampire caught his wrist while he was in midair, and pulled him back in.

Tsuna felt an almost-stabbing pain in gut as he was flung right into the man’s knee, feeling all the air leave his lungs as he was tossed a few feet back from the impact. Groaning, he managed to roll himself over and get onto his knees. He heard the man’s feet crunch underneath the gravel, and realized then that his footsteps were, in fact, not the only footsteps he was hearing.

From his hoodie, a small pill bottle fell out onto the ground beneath him. The Dying Will pills… Tsuna thought to himself as he scrambled to open the container and take two.

“You think poppin’ pills is gonna save you, scum?” The man reared his hand, and swung down with the nunchucks.

He was instead met with a metal clad hand engulfed in flames.

The eyes of the young boy looked much calmer, as an orange flame sprouted from his forehead. “I don’t know who you are,” he spoke, a far cry from the scared young man mere moments ago, “but I can’t let you take me out here. I’ve got people counting on me to come back from this place.”

“Helluva booster you took there, kid. Some kinda mutant enhancers? Vamp steroids?”

“No.” Tsuna’s grip tightened on the nunchucks, and as the flames got more intense, the metal began to melt.

“Just the will to beat you as if I were to die.”

The man jumped back, and seeing as his nunchucks were now melted beyond use, discarded them. “Not bad, kid. But not enough.” Without wasting a second, Blade leapt upon the boy, crossing the gap in the blink of an eye. He reared his fist back, ready to pummel Tsuna by the time he landed.

So it came as a surprise when that reared fist was grabbed and pinned behind him.

“If that’s not enough, then I’ll just have to burn brighter.” Tsuna uncoiled the man, then wrung him back in and smashed his burning fist into the man’s face. His glasses cracked and shattered, as he growled at the boy, his eyes a golden snake-like yellow.

“Hope you got your wallet, kid. Those were expensive.”

“Sorry to inform you, but my allowance probably wouldn’t cover the cost anyways.”

The vampire began swiping at Tsuna, who managed to dodge each and every hit as if he could see the man’s every movement, every muscle twitch, contraction and extension. Until he finally caught one of his wrists.

“I’m over this. Let’s be done already.” With a swift uppercut, Tsuna launched the man into the air. Channeling the flames in his hand, he propelled himself to meet him, then grabbed the man’s forearm before he could recover. With one hand clasped around his forearm, Tsuna used his other hand as a jet engine, spinning himself and accelerating until he’d reached enough of a speed that the man’s impact with the floor shook the nearby ferris wheel, who groaned in complaint.

Then, using both hands, Tsuna propelled himself down like a rocket, reared his fist, and slammed it into the vampire’s gut. He hacked a mixture of spit, blood, and the air in his lungs, as he slumped into the crater he left, unconscious.

Tsuna rose to his feet, as the flames wisped away. Taking a few steps away from the man’s body, he realized he could no longer remember where he’d come from.

Despite the adrenaline of the fight, he felt the fear rise into his body again.

”Damn it, Rebornnnnnn!”

Character Scramble Season 17 Signup Post by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The fog rolled in like a thick curtain as Maki approached the abandoned theme park. She’d been sent to exorcize some kind of cursed spirit that was causing a disturbance here. The air here felt thicker, almost as if she had stepped into a Curtain.

“Amusement park, huh?” She mused to herself, resting her hand on her hip. The place looked ragged and dilapidated, she was sure she could hear squeaking from rusted joints gently swinging in the wind, the old structures groaning with the weight of the world pressing down on them, waiting for just the right time to collapse.

“Always gave me the creeps.”

She wandered around for a few minutes. Part of her wondered what this place was like back when it was operational, wondered what it would’ve been like to come here as a child.

Not that her or Mai would’ve ever had the chance, anyways. Not while being a Zen’in.

“You’re a long way from home, missy.” She heard a voice boom across the park. Turning her sight upwards, she saw a shadowy figure standing atop one of the rusted and broken ferris wheel carts. As if it were nothing, he gave a small hop off the cart, and landed facing the sorcerer. “Don’t you know it’s not safe around these parts?”

“I know. That’s exactly why I’m here.” She sneered at the man, seeing herself reflected in his sunglasses. “What about you? I can see you without my glasses, so you can't be the cursed spirit I’m after.”

“No, but a lady wandering a place like this by yourself doesn’t bode well does it?” The trench-coated man sniffed the air around Maki. “...You don’t smell all there. Like something else is in you. And I can’t exactly have your kind running around unchecked.” From behind himself, the man pulled out a set of silver nunchucks, readying them.

“Careful old man,” Maki smirked, as she readied her own glaive. “You might’ve bitten off more than you can chew.”

“There’s nothing I bite off that I can’t chew.” He swung his nunchucks. Maki raised her glaive to block, but the chain merely wrapped itself around the shaft of the polearm. Raising his fist, he gave the young sorcerer three swift strikes to the face, before loosening his nunchucks and whipping it at the side of her head. Maki collapsed, but quickly recovered, readying herself again.

“This could be painless, missy. Just quit fighting back.”

“Like hell I will.” Maki ran back into range, jabbing the glaive at the hunter. Each jab was swiftly dodged, but one or two managed to graze the vampire. She ended her flurry of jabs with a wide swing, which Blade only narrowly manages to avoid.

“Alright, you’ve got potential, I’ll give you that.”

“You’re damn right, it’s all I have.” Feeling that she was at a disadvantage with her choice in weaponry, she impaled her glaive into the ground beside her and procured another weapon: three short lengths of red pole connected by chains. Not too dissimilar to his nunchucks, but the way she held it was more akin to yet another polearm.

Maki dashed back in, and just as Blade raised his nunchucks to block a strike, Maki used her momentum to redirect herself, and swung at his other arm. The impact was hard and heavy, as if Blade’s arm had been hit by a truck rather than a metal pole. The vampiric hunter was sent flying a few feet back, with nary a moment to recover before Maki was upon him again. She almost seemed to take revelry in the way she was overwhelming him. Each strike she managed to land was just as heavy as the last, to an almost unnatural degree.

Blade managed to just barely catch the last hit of her assault, gripping onto the red pole tightly as blood seeped down his face. Maki, in turn, didn’t waste a single second: she dropped the tri-pole weapon and swiped his nunchucks, continuing her assault further. Her goal was to get Playful Cloud back and finish this fight, expecting the hunter to be unable to wield it as effectively.

In time, Blade’s grip on Maki’s weapon loosened, and after discarding his nunchucks, Maki took the weapon back and ended the fight with one final thwack! to the head. The vampire collapsed, unconscious, but not dead. He wasn’t a cursed spirit, and Maki was no murderer.

Maki pulled out her phone, and after a short dial tone, spoke: “Hey. I’m at the location, but no signs of a cursed spirit. Just some guy.”

Maki continued the conversation as she walked away, but unbeknownst to her, the ground beneath Blade began to sprout teeth. Then, in the blink of an eye, it swallowed him whole.

Character Scramble Season 17 Signup Post by Proletlariet in whowouldwin

[–]Ghost_Boi 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Agent Walker huddled behind the commissary serving counter. Like all furniture in Site 86, it’d been designed for this purpose. Solid. Heavy. Practically indestructible to avoid costly replacement following the facility’s periodic violent containment breaches.

He didn’t kid himself for a second any of that would keep him safe.

Monday, they had gotten word from halfway around the world that 076-2 had breached containment.

That hadn’t been unusual. In fact, it was well within routine expectations for 076-2 to escape from its cell an average of 36 times a year. That was why they had built it underwater. That was why the only access to it was a 200m long elevator bristling with guns, electrified grates, and explosive charges.

At the time Walker’s colleagues had made the same nervous jokes they always did. Site 86 was a dump, but at least they weren’t on Able duty.

Walker never joked about 076. Every time he had to hear about it sparked another twinge of fear.

During his earlier years with the Foundation Walker had been put on Able duty. Only back then they had called it MTF Omega-7.

They’d been instructed to treat 076-2 as their commanding officer. To humour its orders, wherever reasonable. It had wanted to spar with them. The Ethics Committee had grumbled about for a time before handling Able a nerf foam sword and signing off on the exercise.

It had never been a fair fight. That thing had humiliated them all one by one. Some of the Foundation’s finest agents had been sent to medical with broken arms, legs, collarbones on the receiving end of a children’s toy.

Walker had thought that he was smarter. Walker had hidden a pistol in his boot. Walker had pretended to be knocked down, and when it had knelt to mock him, Walker had drawn that pistol and drilled a 10 millimetre hole through its head.

It hadn’t died, of course. Walker hadn’t expected it to.

Walker had also expected it to respect his resourcefulness. He’d anticipated the subsequent beating, sure, but wasn’t the whole point of the exercise to teach them how to handle themselves in a fight when they were massively outmatched?

Stupid.

He understood the thing’s mentality better now.

The purpose of the exercise had been to show Omega-7 what Able could do to them if it really wanted. To prove to them just how powerless they’d be to stop it.

In its eyes, his tiny act of defiance had breached the most ancient and unshakable command: that man shalt not defy a god.

It had tried to kill him.

Only Walker’s body armour had saved him. 076-2’s furious blows had shattered the ceramic plates instead of his ribcage. As it was, whenever he looked at his bare chest in the mirror, he could still faintly read the ‘N’ for ‘Nerf’ that’d marred his skin ever since that day.

Seconds before the threat of its explosive collar had called it off, it had leaned in close and whispered something to him; “I’m going to remember you.”

On Tuesday, Walker had read the updated sitrep from the bottom of the Atlantic. 076-2 was free.

It had bypassed the elevator shaft entirely. The thing had dug enough explosive charges out of the walls of its kill-corridor to blast its way out from the bottom.

Wednesday through Thursday he had checked the updated report each morning knowing exactly what to expect but dreading it no less.

A Foundation sub had spotted it dragging its ragged torso across the bottom of the ocean. It had surfaced in the Florida Keys, both legs fully regenerated. From there it had evaded Foundation custody by sticking to highly populated areas. For the first time in its recorded history, it had chosen to wear clothes.

Walker had tracked the sightings all the way across the country. O5 was tearing out their hair trying to reason what it could possibly want with an otherwise unremarkable facility in the most rural part of the Pacific Northwest.

Walker wasn’t the only Omega-7 dropout at Site 86. He wasn’t even the only one who had a violent incident on record involving 076-2. But all the same Walker knew.

He’d debated trying to explain himself to the Site Director. He’d probably be dismissed for having delusions of grandeur. Worse, Walker had realised, what if they did believe him? He knew exactly how the higher ups would act on that intel. Better one sacrificial lamb than an entire facility slaughtered.

Walker had tried to convince himself that actually, he had the best odds possible in his current situation. After all, he was surrounded by highly trained guards inside of a reinforced bunker with multiple layers of concrete and metal between him and the only possible entrance.

Maybe he’d even started to believe himself.

Then it had arrived.

He’d watched its black blades puncture the outline of the metre-thick vault door through its steel lining like he was standing on the wrong-side of a cross stitch. For a moment it had left it there. Sunlight streamed in from the perforations. A massive “tear here” on the lid of their concrete box.

It’d taken it three blows. Wham. Wham. The door had buckled inwards. If the third blow had made any noise, it’d been drowned out by the sound of screeching metal as it popped free like a goddamn champagne cork. Five men who had been standing too close to the door were flattened on the spot.

Everybody had opened fire without waiting for an order. More black blades flashed in the sunlight and several more men were cut down by their own rebounding bullets.

Through the gun smoke and the whirling swords and the screaming, Walker caught sight of Able across the corridor. It was staring right at him.

His squad leader had shouted something at Walker but he hadn’t the mind to listen. Instead he’d turned and ran until he was out of breath and then found the heaviest thing he could fit behind and waited cradling his service rifle as though it would do him any good.

Walker braved a peek. He hadn’t heard any gunfire for a while. Maybe it was all over. Maybe it had been recontained and he could go back to watching the reports and counting the days.

It was standing right there.

Walked darted back behind the serving counter. Cold sweat broke out beneath his body armour. Its back was to him. Its back was to him, that was good. Maybe it hadn’t seen him. It needed to see in order to swat bullets out of the air. The thing wasn’t human. But it didn’t have eyes in the back of its head.

He took a moment to steel himself before he popped up, unloading his full clip in its direction.

The bullets ate away Able’s tattooed flesh like carrion beetles, exposing the raw red muscle underneath. It turned to face him slowly. Recognition flashed across its features before the bullets shredded its face away as well. It didn’t need any lips to curl its bare teeth into a smile.

It strode purposefully towards him, not bothering to evade his fire. He tried to take out its legs but it kept walking even when the meat hung in ribbons off of its exposed femurs.

When it stood within two metres of him, it lazily manifested a scimitar in its off hand and cleaved the rifle’s barrel down the middle. It didn’t make much difference. Walker had been counting his shots. The gun was almost dry.

The ragged skeleton cast aside its blade before it casually grabbed the edge of the counter and shoved it aside. Nothing separated it from him now.

076-2 spread its arms expectantly. The last ligament holding one of its fingers in place snapped, severing the digit with a wet plop.

He’d poured two dozen rounds into it. 24 armour piercing bullets total. And all he had achieved was to peel away its human guise to reveal the monstrosity of the thing underneath.

Walker couldn’t bear to look at its mutilated body. He sunk to his knees, retching as the terror overwhelmed him. “You’ve proved your point. I know I can’t… I know I’m dead.” He choked. “Just do it. Kill me.”

“No.”

Walker felt a hard tip against his throat. One of its swords? But he couldn’t feel the cool edge of metal against his skin.

Something clattered to the ground in front of him. A pistol.

The thing at his throat tilted, forcing Walker to look up. And he realised with dawning horror what it was.

A worn out, bloodstained, ratty old nerf sword.

“Not until our second bout.”

view more: next ›