The Big Damn Fight

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The Big Damn Fight
The Big Damn Fight
“Good god DAMN,” the Abhorrent squelched. Its toes crept into its mouth. Its mouth crept onto its stomach. “There is NOTHING, and I mean sonsabitchin NOTHIN, on TV.”

Its TV was a little beat-up box, about a foot on each side. It was not plugged in.

“NOTHIN,” it repeated. It scratched its exposed breasts. Tiny scales fell onto the floor. It picked up a hank of its ragged hair and started flossing with it.

“Now see,” it said through a mouthful of hair, “I just can’t be assed to be bored for one more goddamn minute, and I mean that. I’m lookin for entertainment. I’m lookin for…. top quality primo runnin around.”

The Abhorrent’s mind, sluggish on the best of days and now currently glacial, unfolded. For several hours it perused its ancient memory for a flicker of anything interesting. With the patience of a being who has not moved over a meter in several thousand years it bypassed ball pit orgy, puppet show, and bathing.

“Hurgh,” it yawned.

It waved its spindly hand. An assistant came to its side, which was like a fuzzy slug. It flumphed.

“Borrrrred,” the Abhorrent said.

“Kill seven people,” the slug glurphed.

“Oh yes,” the Abhorrent agreed. It scratched its necks with the fervor of mild interest. “Do they have to be people?”

“They do not have to be people.”

“Nice, nice nice.”

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What is this?

Entry form


Schazer as "Princess" Peppi Nephrite- #20D876
AgentBlue as Raime Truncata- #2020B0
Gatr as III☆/Zaiza- #000069
Colby as Alexandria “Alex” Albright aka: Nova- #FF00FF
Ixcaliber as Noise- #FF0024
Bigro as William William William- #ABCDEF

The winner!
Sai as Also Wilhelm- #708090
RE: The Big Damn Fight
Fuck the police it's Peppi time

Name: "Princess" Peppi Nephrite
Species: A mermaid but froggier
Gender: Lady
Color: Under the seeeea

Description: A face-splitting smile, fluffy white hair, two vaguely-antennoid horns sticking out, big black eyes. Pretty attractive for a seakin, if you like your ladies from the benthic zones. Greenstone skin, perpetually damp. General build obscured by an unnecessary amount of exquisitely-brocaded and embroidered sea-green fabric (gold, jade, purple and white detailing), which shimmers and sways even when Peppi doesn't. It can't seem to decide on one particular cut, but consistently has a hugeass pair of kimono-esque "wings" which hang from her arms. Hoods, sashes, and ridiculous trains all seem to be fair game.

Peppi's built for running, under all that fabric. No stranger to lying, stealing, and cheating her way through life with a flutter of transparent eyelids, she's not actually a princess, but always tries to get new people to greet her as such. She is personable in the manner often seen in the mildly sociopathic, but unable to survive off any given place's hospitality for long. The world thus far has been a wide place, so Peppi's not had to run far to find a place where her reputation hasn't yet preceded her.

She also has jewelry. It's all stolen, most of it from dead people. The webs on her fingers get in the way of truly heinous amounts of ring-wearing (not to mention it'd cover up her adhesive frog-fingertips), so she puts all those on a cord as a tackier-than-usual charm bracelet instead.

Weapons/Abilities: Peppi's Cloak is the cursed artefact of some god or another. The Cloak marks its wearer as the Preysome, a ritual sacrifice to be slaughtered by the bearer of the Dagger. The Cloak cannot be removed until the accursed has been killed by the Dagger-bearer, and makes its wearer really good at fleeing/being prey. It does this by being an animate object with an apparent will of its own, as well as subtly warping the wearer's body to run faster, leap further, etc etc. Being seakin, Peppi's in-water movement with the Cloak is much faster than she could achieve normally. The Cloak appears immune to water damage or dirt, and tends to stitch itself back together if anything cuts it (except the Dagger). Adding the Cloak's powers to her own, she can stick a landing onto a roof from the ground without a run-up, and hit the ground again gracefully.

Peppi also has the Dagger, the other half to the story of her Cloak. The one marked as the Dagger's bearer is the Huntsward, and they are possessed by a desire to seek out and kill the Preysome. It's all kinda symbolic and reductive and almost definitely sexist given the Preysome-Hunstward gender distribution to date. The Dagger gives its bearer a supernatural sense of where to find the Preysome, and subtly warps their physiology over time to suit their role as the predator. Peppi is not the Dagger's bearer; she stole it and has kept it under wraps since. The Dagger grants her abnormal combat skill when she's wielding it, but also gives her a steadily-building desire to hunt herself down. Her preferred conflict resolution is to sock you in the face with a ring-weighted rope and scarper.

The Cloak and Dagger may have some kind of clause which subtly prevents death by means other than Daggerage. Peppi hasn't tested this and has no real inclination to do so.

Biography: Peppi is running around with a magical dagger and a magical cloak because gods are douchebags, and Peppi tried sticking it to a pair of them. She wasted several years of her life chasing a friend who was chosen by the Cloak, failed to save her from her Huntsward, crossed paths with the Cloak further down the track, and decided to take the damn thing for herself and find a way to break the curse once and for all. She disarmed her Huntsward by sheer fluke, stole his knife, and has been on the run ever since.
RE: The Big Damn Fight
Name: Raime Truncata
Gender: She/hers
Color: Power woman blue
Species: Executive
Description: "There are things I have time for, and then there is this."

These are the words stamped behind the eyes of every Executive manufactured. Masters of delegation and management, Executives rise to the top in nearly every corporate structure, only to happily self-destruct before they can lead any coups. They have no empathy because they are not human, even if they are vat-grown from human stock. If they have the capacity to feel pity, or anything at all, they do not show it.

Raime Truncata, on the other hand, is what you might call a factory second. Her chassis is a neat representation of a young, tanned woman dressed impeccably in a blazer, skirt and blouse, with matching pumps and black tights. The effect is rather spoiled by the crusted, jagged, sparking wound that marks the end of her neck, which quite understandably spewed blood everywhere before clotting and staining her outfit something awful. Raime's head is usually cradled in the crook of her arm, a mad smile fluttering across her bloodstained features and a happy twinkle in her almond-shaped eyes; she seems to find all of this amusing, and wouldn't you, if you were a massively dysfunctional decapitated cybernetic clone?

Raime is an optimist, a humanist, and above all a pun master, personality traits definitively not in her initial programming and almost certainly a consequence of 1) her self-modifying code and 2) being decapitated. She believes in everyone's potential, and will do everything in her power to help bring it about, even if it takes convoluted and illogical schemes that are almost certainly not thought through. Because they aren't.

She also has the attention span of an adorable puppy. She likes puppies.

Powers & Abilities: As a primary function, Raime has an extraordinarily enhanced ability to micromanage complex systems. On the other hand, that kind of requires people to do what you say instead of screaming and running away when you pretend to throw your head at them. So that one's a little useless.

As a secondary function, Raime was designed to improve workplace efficiency and morale by constantly reminding workers of how easily they can be replaced. This one got scrambled up a bit as well. Now she's actually good at this. In the non-threatening way, that is.

Though not a function, Raime has the tightly-corded muscles and machine-boosted myosin of any cybernetic clone, which grants her more strength than someone of her slim frame should really have. If she wanted to, she could, like, totally punt her head across a football field. But that's her head, yo.

Biography: Raime Truncata was manufactured on Line Seven in Factory 8152, New Lakesville, Johnsdam County, the New Federated States of Fekifino. Shortly after this, the local corporate lobby was overturned by a minor incident (full-on citizen uprising and coup) and all Factories in the New New People's "Down with the Corporate Aggressors" Federated States of Fekifino were ordered destroyed; Raime was still in programming when a recent layoff came bursting in with a chainsaw and roughly cut her head off. The assailant did indecent things to her body before running out again, hollering at the top of her lungs.

Luckily, the little power cable leading to the reactor buried deep under the Factory was still plugged in to the back of her neck-stump. And more luckily, Raime's wireless uplink was still functioning, and so was the backup wireless link in her chest, so when all the fuss had quieted down and the blood had properly dried, she simply picked her head up and walked out into a brave new world. The sun was shining, the wreckage was rusting, and several burning flags for the New New New People's True "Down with the New Aristocrats" Distributed Federated States of Fekifino suggested that the present danger was now long past.

It wasn't so bad a situation, considering.

She'd manage.

As long as she didn't lose her head.

And kept ahead of events.

And headed in the right direction.


RE: The Big Damn Fight- SIGNUPS OPEN
Name: Noise (This is the only name she will respond to; she disowned her birth name because 'Noise' was cooler and much more apt.)
Gender: Female
Color: #FF0024
Species: Superhuman
Description: Noise is a girl in her late teens. She has lightly tanned skin and short red-blonde hair. She's pretty tall for her age, and real buff. She wears a mask (black with a thin red soundwave symbol, covers the upper half of the face) which she almost never takes off in public. At the time of abduction she was wearing her school uniform; white shirt, blue tie, black skirt and a pair of heavy black boots. Noise is headstrong, impulsive, ready to fight at the drop of a hat and intensely loyal to anyone she befriends.

Because of her rowdiness people tend to underestimate her intelligence and yeah she's not the most booksmart girl in her friend group but she's the one who has the best understanding of her own abilities. She's practiced with them, learnt what she can do, considered how she can most effectively use them against a whole variety of common superhuman abilities. She knows her stuff. Her favourite music genre is dubstep.

Powers & Abilities: Noise has the ability to turn into sound. This has several uses: firstly it means she can easily pass through anything which isn't soundproofed, secondly it means she's also extremely fast, as when she is sound she can move at that speed (this is of limited functionality though as she can't stay sound for too long) and thirdly it means she can hit real hard. She's already pretty tough but when she can punch you at the speed of sound, well... yeah.

Biography: Noise was born in a small town called Rosid; a relatively new town with a surprisingly high proportion of superhumans to regulars. She manifested her abilities at a young age and has worked hard to master them ever since. She's friends with a group of about five other girls most of whom also have abilities. Together they are a band called Masque (the name and stylization was Glitch's idea) and they sing semi-regularly at Club Supernova. Noise isn't really interested in singing so much as she enjoys hanging out with her friends, and she was the one to prompt their branching out into actual 'superheroism'.

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RE: The Big Damn Fight- SIGNUPS OPEN
Name: III☆/Zaiza ("Threestar" is his racing name, and Zaiza is his given name)
Gender: Male
Color: #000069
Link Wyrm (the general name): Physiologically, these people resemble dragon humanoids, but much skinnier and with tentacle-like appendages for limbs. They have a natural bioelectricity, which allows them to power up machines. Their heads are smooth and aerodynamic, resembling a bicycle helmet. They have wide mono-colored eyes set just below the rim of their skull helmets, protected by a thin yet sturdy clear material. Their bodies are brightly colored. They are amphibious and can breathe water just as well as air.

The Link Wyrms are a people of extremes. They are naturally inclined to high emotions, whether that be joy, anger, pride, envy, hope, or despair. On their planet, they often lead lives lacking in shame and filled with carnal pleasures. One thing they do take pride in, though, is their various mechanical equipments. They often don mechanical suits filled with weaponry and other cool stuff, just to show off. Their bioelectricity makes this a natural instinct for them. The Multitechs are an example of this, and many Riders see Multitechs as an extension of their bodies.

The Link System, a series of roads connecting and covering a binary panet system, is well-known for competition, and they have struck gold with Multitech Racing. Many planets throughout the whole galaxy are avid followers, and sometimes even participants, of Multitech Racing. In Multitech Racing, their vehicles are capable of going on land and through water, air, and even space. It is an intense sport, with a high accident rate. However, Link Wyrms, the natives of this System have good durability and even an accelerated regeneration rate, so there are very few deaths among their kind. They have many different types of races, each with their own niche.

On the surface, Multitech Racing seems to be a sport filled with glory, but it actually has a darker history than most people would expect. Its origins arise from street racing, where gangs would stake their lives and livings on these races. Weapons were allowed and expected in these races. So, the Link System has two sides to it, a light tourist attraction side, and a dark gang warfare side. Too often, people have moved to the Link System with personally-modded Multitechs and found themselves caught up in a life of gang warfare, slavery, drugs, and murder. Despite all this, the Link System still attempts to portray Multitech Racing in a positive light. Some people theorize that they are truly trying to change their image, while others theorize that they are just hoping to reel in more suckers and get their money.

III☆ is the poster child for this new age of Multitech Racing brought upon by the corporations, in a transparent money grab. He is often glorified and advertised towards the galaxy. Although he does have genuine racing skill, his publicity can be attributed to his easy-going personality and quick wit. He lives a double life, though. He is a high-ranking member of the Link System Riders, the most powerful and widespread gang in the Link System. He actually has a lot of political control over his planets but he doesn't let that get in the way of his racing, mainly because he genuinely does enjoy racing.

Powers & Abilities:
He brought his Multitech. Multitechs are essentially extensions of his body, formed as mecha-suits that can transform into bikes, boats, spaceships, planes, or whatever kind of vehicle he feels like driving at the moment. They don't have weapons built in them, or at least they aren't supposed to. But any Link Systemite can tell you that is bullshit. All the rules are only there as a formality anyways. So here's what he has.

- A dual-photon slasher, in each arm.
- Several laser cannons built throughout the body.
- A gigantic missile launcher located at the Multitech's crotch and yes of course it's there on purpose.
- Illegal plutonium-based boosters in the back. I guess they could be used as weapons.
- A microwave. Gun.
- Some syringes built into the tech. To get him going during races. To get you stopping during fights.

They're all usually hidden away during his races, though. Gotta keep up the good rep.

Blue scales, green eyes, big yellowish Multitech. He is colorful, and he keeps his scales well-polished and his teeth shiny at all times. His Multitech is a technological wonder, made possible through centuries of technological advancement.

You can find him grinning smugly down at you from, like, everywhere. Posters, billboards, advertisements for a new drug, etc. He's a bit of a celebrity, you see. Maybe you might want to think that he hasn't let it all get to his head, that he's a decent person. His fans might try to convince you of this, perhaps with shuddering tears of devotion. Don't listen to them. He is a smug asshole who knows exactly where he is in life and what he wants out of life. What he wants is to live life in the fast lane, as cliched as that might sound. On the surface, it might seem like he is a glamorous celebrity, famous for his glory-filled racing adventures. But the truth is that he leads quite the carnal life. He knows all the best places to eat, all the best people to have sex with. Whatever you like, he won't judge. He just wants you to have a good time. He's always experimenting with a new drug, even though he knows it might destroy his body. It helps him feel good, and he is all about feeling good.

It helps him forget that he's dying.

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RE: The Big Damn Fight- SIGNUPS OPEN
"Celebrity" Profile:

Name: Alexandria “Alex” Albright aka: Nova
Gender: Girl
Color: Hot Pink! #ff00ff

Human.. Duh!

Just your average early 20’s-something girl, except she’s totally rad, is a fantastic singer, dancer and oh, did I mention she has has superpowers?! Beating up bad guys by day and filling stadiums by night, you might claim not to love Alex Albright, but you know you're going to root for her in the next televised battle and have probably hummed her latest hit on the way to work!

She’s blonde, slim and has the looks of a model, advertised as adorning a no-fucks given attitude while she's blowing bubbles from gum or smoking cigarettes in her black and pink superhero costume. But, everyone knows underneath that cool exterior is a warm and caring person that is just so authentic and down to earth! In her latest interview she said, “The thing to realize is that I’m going to do whatever I want, and own it. It just so happens that I like to help people. If I end up going “off brand” to assist people in need, the marketing team is just going to have to suck it up.”

Powers & Abilities:
Alex is an excellent dancer, classically trained in ballet and ballroom dancing, though she began learning hip-hop, and breakdancing styles in secret during her highschool years. She began learning martial arts from a young age, and has a black belt in aikido and judo, as well as a deep love for capoeira. She is currently learning krav maga. She ties her fighting style together with her dancing skills, and seemingly gets more powerful at fighting if a song with a good beat is playing.

Her singing is capable of moving entire crowds in specific ways, based upon the intention of her music. This is very helpful for crowd control, in which she can clear a street or calm a riot in minutes. Of course this ability also makes her extremely popular at her shows when her intention is to rock out.

The limits of her superpowers are actually unknown, but one thing is clear, she gets more powerful every battle. She is super strong, and can easily throw a car. She is incredibly quick and can dodge bullets, though she may not need to dodge bullets as she also appears to be incredibly durable. She claims to be capable of flight. But the consensus on whether or not this is true is still out. She will often come hurtling into battle from the sky, and take off in the same way, but people are still debating whether or not she is just jumping.

She is equipped with a very durable skintight black and pink superhero costume with some heavier armored pads loosely fitted on top of that similar to that of a american football player without a helmet. Following her around are some camera drones which film her, and are also fitted with speakers that can play her some rad music while she fights.

She went to public school in a low income neighborhood, so she never forgets her roots and always makes time for charity work. Her parents were quite domineering presences in her life, always making her do better and achieve more. Her sole dream was always to become a singer, but her parents didn’t approve. One day she got fed up with her parents, forged their signatures on a parental consent form, and snuck off to an audition for a popular competition show.

No one will ever forget this incredible girl’s rise to the top of American Talent as her appearance alone drew in the best ratings tv has seen in the last five years. The night of the finale shocked many when she did not show up on stage, forfeiting the title of America's Most Talented to whom everyone expected to be the runner-up that year. Little did we know that at the moment she was supposed to be on stage, she was in a coma after being struck by a radioactive solar flare! After weeks of everyone on edge, sending flowers and best wishes, Alex Albright awoke as Nova, a superpowered woman ready to kick ass and take names!

Hi there! I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to read my adventure Madeline Beaufort and the Moon Thief! Thanks!
[Image: 8zbr3I4.png]
Dope ass dragon created by the incomparable Earthexe
RE: The Big Damn Fight- SIGNUPS OPEN
“There are not enough,” a slug burbled reproachfully. “There are too few.”

“Whateverrrrr,” the Abhorrent said. It had been experimenting with autocannibalism; it was somewhat less. It coiled its tendrils peevishly. “I tried for several minutes. Bounce off my dick.”

It formed a thought and released it, letting it fly through the fabric of time and space. A great mouth-like hole formed above its squalid carpet and five beings and a laptop fell noisily through, landing in a puff of ancient dust. A few promptly began attacking its nest of crooked limbs.

The Abhorrent counted with a curled claw, then re-counted, arriving at a different total. It scratched its hair. “I am going to send all of you somewhere to kill each other. It might be hard. I might just kill all of you anyway, but if you win, you can go home. If you lose you get killed. If you win maybe also still get killed. ”

Those entrants bothering to look up found their eyes sliding away from the Abhorrent’s slowly undulating form. It wasn’t particularly hazardous to look upon; it just radiated a sort of fundamental ickiness. It brought to mind a mammalian Bobbit worm, or a swollen many-legged blimp, or a miasma of star-riddled fog. Little furry slugs crept peacefully over its body like benevolent ticks. It loomed like an unemployed thundercloud.

Marblish eyes swept over the small crowd of attackers with colicky passion. It waved a spindly claw. “Come on, knock it off.”

The Abhorrent lost interest in what it was saying and coiled pettily for a few seconds.

“This,” it said suddenly, plucking Peppi up by the cloak, “is a frog, frog-thing. It’s got a big knife. That is a headless money robot, this,” it batted away Noise, “is some teen loud monster, this is a lizard from space-hell, that is a number box-numbers. ”

Peppi stabbed a slug with her dagger. The Abhorrent coughed unfavorably. “Last is a pink demon stink child. I forgot some. I’m Margot.”

A bouquet of chitinous arms descended upon the contestants like swarming mangroves and swept them up. The Abhorrent’s piscine visage gazed blearily upon them. Noise punched it in the eye.

“Robots,” the Abhorrent said, “Lots of them.”

With a great puff of its breath they were gone, falling through the vastness of the void. A scene was opening up beneath them: growing larger and larger-

RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!

The iridescent green words hovered in front of her, then blinked out. Out of curiosity, she looked for it again - and found it hovering just above the edge of her vision. Her eyes watered from looking at it, but it was enough time to distinguish a SCORE: 000000 and SPECIAL bar. Fascinating!

Oh right. Raime Truncata, (probably) the last of the Executive clones, stood in a gargantuan hangar, impressive in both its size and its emptiness. For a while she’d been aware of milling recruits, but none of them seemed to have been the people she was brought here with, so… not relevant! For now, at least. There would be plenty of time to do morale checks and employee evaluation later!

And then there was something else that had been bugging her. It wasn’t until she tried her looking-up trick that she realized why: her head was on her shoulders! Like, neck stump to neck stump! Moreover, an exploratory hand on her neck revealed that her head had been inexpertly taped on, probably by some HR officer. She shuddered at the thought of some HR flack getting their dirty hands on her bloody neck.

So first order of business: find some scissors! Second order of business: find other… murder colleagues? She supposed she might have been abruptly rehired by this… Margot. She wasn’t sure. Margot seemed like such a secretary name to her. But if this was her job now, she would be glad to fulfill it to the fullest! Right after she found some scissors. Third order of business: decapitate self. Again.

Walking briskly on… space heels? Her whole outfit was some sort of flight suit, she realized. She couldn’t actually confirm this since she couldn’t look down, because of aforementioned tape. God damn, in normal circumstances she’d have just pointed her head at herself. Also there were no space heels. Just space boots. Not businesslike at all. But as far as she could feel, she still had her nice red tie. Excellent. Hopefully she could get her clothes back later.

Walking briskly on space boots, Raime made her way to whatever most brightly-colored sign proclaimed as a common area. A bright future lay ahead!
RE: The Big Damn Fight
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RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Also Willhelm was deeply unsettled by the suit that he had found himself in. It was awkwardly tight in a way that he was unused to, and though he couldn't complain about its warmth, the entire outfit felt far too light. Worse still, he was missing his belts and the comforting weight of the weapons that came with them. Even the cape that served as both ward and sigil was missing. Looking around at the stark metal cages that surrounded him, the room seemed to be something between a barrow and a menagerie, but these cages seemed entirely devoid of the animals that he would have expected to see. Glyphs lined the side of each cage, and after a moment of meddling he figured out how to activate the latch to pull one open. Within it was a set of far more normal seeming clothing. Finally, some progress!

He began to loot the contents of the cage, throwing the cheap seeming cotton garments on the floor. Rifling through the pocketed blue pants yielded a small leather purse, but it had only a few undersized coins and scraps of paper, and so he tossed those to the ground as well. The second locker yielded similar results, although it also had a few shining packets with pictures of a bark-like thing scrawled over them. While the material appeared metallic, it tore easily and yielded a small block of some sort of ration. It smelled like nuts. While Also was not particularly hungry, he ate it to be polite.

After rifling through a half dozen similar cages, the warrior finally found his own clothing. He slid on his suit of chain over the tight outfit that he had found himself in, belted on his weapons, and then pulled the cloak over the ensemble. He added the coins that he had found to his own pouch and was pleased with the clinking that resulted. Finally ready, he made his way out of the room. He was ready for whatever foul sorcerer he had been sent to hunt down.
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RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!

Nova was dropped into a hallway and fell to the floor, landing gracefully like the hero she was supposed to be. She looked around at her surroundings. She was in space, she could tell that much even without any real evidence to support such an assertion. It wasn’t like there were any windows darting the long metallic hallway corridors, so it was possible that she could be underground... But space had a particular smell and feel to it, and this smelled and felt like space to Nova.

She was also alone, at least in the physical sense. The others she had just been with in that monstrous blob’s lair were nowhere to be seen. The hallway corridors were vast and empty. Aside from the occasional creaks denoting that the ship was an old one, the only sounds she could hear were her footsteps and the whir of her drones. Curiously, they were flying around taking in observations of the surroundings. Nova quickly extrapolated that the only way they would be active was for one of two reasons, neither of which would be particularly helpful to her current situation. Reason one seemed more likely to Nova, that someone or something had hijacked the drone’s capabilities. The second reason was less likely, that earth, her earth, was still connected somehow, through the vast annals of space. (and potentially time, not to mention dimensions.)

She turned to one of the drones who was following her. She called out to the cameraman who usually piloted the drones for her organization, “Are you reading me, Eyes?”

No response, but Nova waited patiently through what could be the usual lag. Finally, it transmitted a message through its speaker ,
“Loud and clear, boss!” The voice was a familiar one, belonging to Eyes. “We saw the Margot creature too! The whole country is on the edge of their seat, the views from this footage are off the charts!”

Shit. This was going to make things tricky. If she wanted to get home withe her reputation and abilities intact, which she did, she was going to have to be careful. As well as not dying for the grotesque space-bending blob’s entertainment, she’d have to play to the camera. Unfortunately for her, the americans at home didn’t like it when you killed people for bloodsport. But someone was going to have to die this round, and she wasn’t going to let it be her. Nova knew the people at home would want her to fight Margot before she ever played by it's rules, but Nova knew when she was outclassed in a battle, so that wasn't an option. Nova developed a plan thusly; find the others, form alliances, and let them murder each-other.

She could probably always kill the laptop. She doubted the people at home would care much about that.
Hi there! I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to read my adventure Madeline Beaufort and the Moon Thief! Thanks!
[Image: 8zbr3I4.png]
Dope ass dragon created by the incomparable Earthexe
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
"Fuuuuuuuuck. That fucker! That fucking cunt."

Zaiza briefly reflected on that one half-second when the Abhorrent looked like a hairy cunt. He chuckled.

"Literally. But seriously. What the fuck."

His ire was brought about by the fact that he found himself connected to a different multitech than his own. His engineering instincts told him nigh-immediately what this thing was capable of. The answer? Shitall. This thing could do shitall. It couldn't transform, it couldn't go fast, it didn't even have any weapons! It reminded him of something a baby would make on his world. They were mocking him!

No. He approached this differently. He saw the other contestants, and none of them were Link Wyrms. So, this was a handicap? Hehe. He wasn't going to let this hold him back. But, just for the sake of posterity, he activated the chip in his brain that connected him to his Multitech. Surprisingly, it was able to execute and connect, indicating that his Multitech was somewhere nearby. He tried turning it on and moving it towards his location, but it felt locked down by something immensely powerful. Damn it. They really went the extra mile. Oh well! He searched through the shittier mech's OS, and got the gist of how it worked. Then, he ejected himself. He flew in a short arc, then landed on the rusty ground with a flumph. He was naked. Nice. He stood up in an awkwardly quadripedal position, looking at his mech from the outside. It resembled a Zrgyztian, but more stocky and mechanical. Clearly, it had been retrofitted with tentacular inserts, the standard needed for a Link Wyrm to drive the mech. At least they were considerate enough to include those!

But, no weapons? A fight to the death, and no weapons? He looked around. He was in a room aboard the spaceship, filled with scrap. How convenient. Hmm. Of course, it was immediately obvious they expected him to make his own weapons. He wasn't an idiot. He slithered back to his assigned mech, then got inside. After a couple of physical trials, he started lumbering around the scrapyard, rummaging for anything sharp. He found some wires, two buzz saws, and some long metal bits. Thankfully, this mech had some fine control. He used it to make a couple of buzzsaw arms. They were kind of small and spindly, but he guessed they could potentially kill. Good enough.

He reflected on his situation briefly. This seemed like a new competition, one not related to Multitechs. He didn't think his people would like this competition, but at the same time it was a fight to the death. Who doesn't love a fight to the death? He would compete, and make his people proud. If they were watching. He made a note to inquire into the viewership of this new sport.

He set off in a lumbering gait, then stopped, realizing he could do so much better. Using the buzzsaws, he detached the mech's legs alarmingly easily. It was flimsy. He found some other mechanical parts, and began working to make his legs faster.
[Image: 6xGo4ab.png][Image: sig.gif]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Noise found herself in a long metal corridor, and not a sleek and shiny metal corridor, but rather a dull and functional metal corridor. One side of the corridor had a long window looking out into the blackness of space, patterned only with the light of distant stars. Noise punches the window and screams. Not really loud, and not really hard for that matter. Noise is more than aware she could probably tear straight through here, but she has a little frustration to work of. Punching things generally works, though punching things at a reduced velocity rarely has any real impact.

“Fuck!” Noise yells. What the heck was that? Some kind of genetic experiment? A quick list of known things about Margot:

1. It’s name is apparently Margot.

2. It has the capacity to teleport others, it would seem over a long distance. It’s impossible to know how far she is away from Rosid but unless there’s an illusionist involved as well it seems a fair bet to Noise that she’s in space now, and that was just two ports. That’s pretty impressive.

3. It’s surprisingly sturdy. It didn’t even blink when she punched it in the eye. Granted she didn’t resonate but even so...

Oh and 4. It wants her to kill some people she’s never met, and that just seems rude.

Suddenly there was a scream for help; a girl’s voice, somewhere nearby. Semi-relieved to have a clear objective Noise leapt into action. She became a thrumming wall of sound rushing down the long corridor, through several sets of tightly sealed electronic doors and into the room in which the scream had originated, and was there before the scream even ended.

Noise snapped back to physicality, a little disorientated. It’s difficult to parse your surroundings when you are living noise moving at the speed of sound. Other sounds are easy, but physical objects, living beings etcetera, they’re tough. Not that she really knows what to make of what she sees before her even back in physical form. It’s some kind of being looming over a girl, about her own age and the girl looks terrified. Noise doesn’t have the time or inclination to question the situation further. She makes a fist, resonates for a split second and swings as hard and fast as she can.

The creature, whatever it was, is now paste, sticky purple paste splattered across the room. Before this impromptu redecoration the room had been well, mostly metal much like the corridor that led here, but also with splashes of pink. There had been nothing that most would call ‘luxurious’ in the room but it would have been clear that someone had been at least trying to make an effort to make it seem cozy. If it wasn’t for all the unpleasant purple ooze.

The girl screamed again because that seemed like a pretty appropriate reaction at this point.
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RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
A mass of armed creatures rounded a corner in front of her. They were tall humanoids with mechanical protrusions extruding from their grey-blue skin which formed a sort of armor. This machinery ran down their arms, the tubing and components coming to a head at where their hands were. They noticed Nova immediately and began lumbering quickly towards her. She had seen enough foot-soldiers in her adventures to know what they looked like, regardless of what alien race they came from.

“I mean you no harm!” She shouted, all the while posing for the cameras. Nova hoped they could understand english, but she couldn't observe any indication one way or the other. “I assume I’m trespassing, but there’s a perfectly rational reason for me being here..." She tried to devise ways about how she could relate her recent experiences without sounding insane, but failed to do so. Nova sighed."..I just can’t explain it very well yet. ”

This must have angered the opposing force, as the alien squadron took a shooting stance and extended their arms in her direction. Nova slowly raised her hands in the air. “If you attack me, I will be forced to retaliate. Let’s not do anything rash now.” She said, cooly. Nova glanced back at the drones “Eyes, take cover.”

Neon blue light ran down the tubing protruding from the creatures, and they let loose a flurry of beams out of their gun-hands. Nova jumped into the air, flipping around the hot blue pillars of light to avoid being hit. Everywhere the beams made contact with in the metal corridors around her, they left a semi-melted welt. Fuck! Nova thought, I better hope we’re in an inner corridor right now, and not anywhere close to space.

She kicked off a wall and rocketed towards one of the creatures, making heavy contact and sending it flying. This put Nova square in the middle of the aliens’ squad formation. She turned to the nearest one, grabbing it’s gun arms from underneath, pointing them over her head before they could fire. The beams from its arms made contact with one of the other alien soldiers, leaving a gaping, melted hole where it’s head was, purple blood dripping down it’s mangled torso. She yanked the one whose arms she was holding onto up into the air, and whipped it down onto another alien smashing both to the floor. Nova wasn’t done with her new acquaintance yet, and instead of letting go of the alien, she opted to spin him around like a discus, blocking incoming beams with its body before tossing it into the rest of the aliens’ regiment, toppling them like bowling pins.

Most of the alien soldiers were knocked out, a few writhing in pain. A single soldier began to put itself together and stand up. Something uniquely unsettling began to happen, its face began to contort and the mechanical protrusions beginning to be absorbed by it's undulating flesh. The being let loose a guttural howling screech.

“Nope.” Nova punched it in it’s shifting face, sending it flying down the hallway out of sight. She turned to one of her drones, “I don’t know what that was, but I think I'm safe to assume something that horrifying isn't up to anything good.”
Hi there! I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to read my adventure Madeline Beaufort and the Moon Thief! Thanks!
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Dope ass dragon created by the incomparable Earthexe
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
“I hope everyone brought their orientation packets! Because I’ve forgotten mine.”

A dozen recruits stared blankly in response. No, literally - Raime had never seen such expressionless faces. “Hello? Is anybody home?”

Silence. “You lot don’t seem very enthusiastic.”

“That’s because we aren’t,” one of the recruits said at last, “We’ve got no backup, no credits, no special. We’ve got a hundred mechs and a mysterious and unassailable alien force outside our base. We’ve got jack [bleep] and we’re expected to overcome this invasion force, while our [bleep]ing families are probably dead. Orientation packets? What the [bleep]?”

Cautiously, Raime raised one finger. “One question.”

“[Bleep] you.”

“Can you... not swear at all?”


“Snrk -- okay, okay. Could you, uh, say ‘fuck’.”


Raime burst out laughing.


“Leave me alone!” PFC Geraldine Cole shouted, as she stormed briskly down a gunmetal-gray corridor, giggling interloper in tow. “You’re [bleep]ing weird.”

“Pffffft!” The interloper barely stifled another bout of laughing.

“Stop that! We’re going to go see the Commander. He’ll sort you out.”

They paused at the foot of a ladder while the humorously-strange woman took a few deep breaths. “Seriously, though. No swearing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now come on, grab the ladder.” She grabbed a free hand and touched it to a rung -

- when the world stopped blurring, they were in another corridor, one slightly more richly appointed.

“Huh. All right.” Geraldine looked the interloper up and down. “Maybe we can trust you after all.”

“Why do you say that all of a sudden?” This was accompanied by a motion that seemed like it was supposed to be an inquisitive tilt of the head. As it were it wasn’t so much a tilt as a capsize. With a start, Geraldine noticed the crude tape encircling her companion’s throat.

“W-well, the ladders are, um, they’re genetic locks, so only us recruits can pass through them, a-and…” her self-control broke. “What the [bleep] happened to your neck?”

“Oh? Oh! I nearly forgot! Do you have a pair of scissors?”

“I’m.” Geraldine didn’t know what to say. “Maybe. Maybe later.”

The interloper stuck out a slender hand. “My name’s Raime. Raime Truncata. It was impolite of me to introduce myself so late!”

“Geraldine Cole. Private first class, whatever that means.” Her tone grew bitter. “No wait, I know what it means: cannon fodder. You flyboys get to ride the mechs. We just get stepped on.”

“I’d never step on you. That would be a waste of resources that would have been better allocated to a stepladder! That’s a better word for those ‘ladders’ you have. Stepladders! Because you step-”

“Thank you for your input…” she peeked at Raime’s uniform. “Airman First Class Truncata. Huh. You technically outrank me.”

“I am an Executive.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas, Raime. Everyone’s rank is the same when death looks you in the face.” She shuddered. “I only hope none of the aliens have gotten on board."
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
"Al'hey, so, there's like, this depthic as all ugly assface of an ennermone's business end, yeah, and he sez to us, right obvious it's a him cuz the first Merr-ded thing y'can trust a guy to fixate all over is a nice phallic bitta weppinry if y' roy'ill visayge ain't doin' ennythin fer 'im, he sez to us-"

The gravity of the entire situation hadn't quite gotten to one child, who squirmed out from behind the human shield its nursery teacher had erected against this egregiously-garbed new threat. "Are you a princess?"

"Ah'd norm'ly have yeh exercuted f'interruptin' me, but yeh can live thanks t'yer bein' smart." Peppi paused with checking herself out in a mirror, and grinned with charming, pointy teeth at the huddled toddlers. "Yeh got it in one! Dams right I'm a princess!"

The bulk of the room looked unconvinced, but fuck those guys amirite? One of the teachers managed their serious cravings for a smoko break or a nervous breakdown (teaching a pack of army brats when to sit down and shut up, clearly, didn't adequately train one for teaching a pack of army brats to sit down and shut up when an alien hit squad snuck into the civilian quarters).

"P-please leave. Or keep your voice down."

Peppi couldn't stop fidgeting with her robes, which seemed to have overridden whatever dumb awful Margot-goddery was stuffing contestants in plugsuits by wrapping Peppi up in some kind of stubbornly-flared approximation. It clung around everywhere that wasn't her legs, opting instead to go full ballgown from the waist down. Peppi detested it. "He tells us, tells me, a loada right regurgitants like I 'ent dealt with people tryina merr-der my sweet self most m'dammed life. What's tryna kill us all here, anyhow?"

The sweet, tolerable little tyke was the first to pipe up. "Aliens! My da says they bleed puh... puh....."

"Say no more." Peppi waved a magnanimous, paddle-like fin of a hand. "I trounce yeh's some ale-bein's, run 'em around til they quit bein' so rowdylike, y'can tell yeh pa what a wonderful job I done did, ah'm richly rewarded 'n everyone's happy."

And before anyone could waste their breath on unheeded arguments against such a perfect and wonderful plan, Peppi had vaulted in several easy bounds out of the darkened creche.
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
“Hey, hey calm down.” Noise said in an approximation of a placating tone. “It’s okay. That, um, whatever the heck that was is super dead now.”

Behind her there was the sound of running, of doors sliding open and weapons being cocked.

“W-what the...?” A voice asked.

“The name’s Noise. There was some kind of creature terrorizing this fine young lady here. Don’t worry I took care of it.” Noise allowed a hint of cockiness into her voice. “That’s kind of my deal.”

The girl continued to look horrified and from behind her there was whispering of two distinct voices.

“It’d be really great if you could give me some information on where I actually am, and it might be a bit of a stretch but if you have anything on a mutation known only as Margot that’d be real helpful too.” Noise said. “Actually scrap that, if you could just port me back to Earth that’d be the ideal...”

Noise trailed off. Under different circumstances maybe she could say that without reservations, but to the best of her knowledge there are no currently populated space stations in Earth’s orbit, meaning either this isn’t that or that it’s highly classified. The latter seems the more likely. And Noise has a fair idea of the reasons why governments classify their projects. Yet on the other hand she doesn’t really want to hang around here when her friends might need her and stopping Margot is pretty high on the priority list also.

“Step away from the princess.” The voice from behind her. It was trying to be stern but not quite managing it.

“Pardon me?” Noise asked. “Where in the heck am I?”
[Image: XM5sGnt.png][Image: oD2Q6os.png][Image: 6SlFOCz.png][Image: fXUWhDZ.png][Image: C53uhZF.png][Image: BvZArpd.png][Image: lam0slf.png][Image: JmQq9We.png][Image: xCqSH1S.png][Image: nxRMSr1.png][Image: bl55826.png]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!

“This is your last warning, step away from the princess.”

“Alright, well, I’m gonna turn around now.” Noise turned slowly. There were two guards, one male one female, in military uniform holding futuristic weaponry and sweating profusely. They had bags under their eyes and essentially looked like they’d been having a bad day for several weeks at this point. “Now I’m gonna step away.” Noise didn’t have to do it this way. She could zip out of the room and be on the other side of the space station before they even pulled the trigger. Or alternatively she could just be sound for a few seconds, let the bullets, or lasers or whatever these things fired pass simply through her, but cooperation seemed like a better strategy in this particular instance, which meant going through this whole rigmarole. She stepped slowly towards the guards.

“Good good just like that.” The male guard said. He was older with grey hair, some battle scars and a finely trimmed moustache.

When Noise was close enough, he grabbed her by the arm, pressed the barrel of the weapon against her, and the female guard ran past her to check on… the princess Noise supposed.

“Look, I’ve cooperated okay. I mean no harm and I might have just saved the… um… princess from a terrible purple fate. You can trust me.” Noise said. The guard holding her shot her an unpleasant look.

Over on the other side of the room the princess and the female guard were whispering. “Is it her?” The male guard called over after a moment.

The female guard nodded. “Code word checks out. She’s the real deal.” The princess was holding her hand tightly her eyes wide with fear.

“Oh! You’ve got a shifter problem.” Noise surmised, mainly because she’d set up similar codeword protocols with the rest of the Masque girls for shapeshifter scenarios. “Well, as an outsider I guess I’m pretty fu-” she was stopped short as powerful electricity flowed through her, clamping down on her ability to simply resonate away. Noise tumbled to the ground and the last thing she saw before blacking out was the purple ooze, all that remained of the shapeshifter that had been about to, presumably, take the place of the princess, slowly, almost imperceptibly slithering towards a vent in the wall.
[Image: XM5sGnt.png][Image: oD2Q6os.png][Image: 6SlFOCz.png][Image: fXUWhDZ.png][Image: C53uhZF.png][Image: BvZArpd.png][Image: lam0slf.png][Image: JmQq9We.png][Image: xCqSH1S.png][Image: nxRMSr1.png][Image: bl55826.png]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Right in front of him, a blue-grey blob flew by and crashed against the wall at the end of the hallway. Zaiza jumped, then hid around the corner. He used a reflective metal panel he had picked up to see around the corner. The blob was just sitting there, blurbling. Bits of metal were around its body, but they were being absorbed. He looked the other way. Ah. There it was. One of the contestants of this game, if he wasn't mistaken. Surrounded by more dead blobs. He didn't know what creature it was but it looked strong, if it was indeed the cause of the flying blob. Well, he supposed he had to kill it. Somehow.

A loud thud caught Nova's attention, and she whirled around. It was an old, decrepit, mechanical suit, only slightly taller than her. Parts of it did look new, though. It was lumbering towards her awkwardly. Okay, what is it this time, she thought. It didn't look threatening, though. Perhaps it's a cleaning robot? She decided she would try talking to it.

"Hello! Sorry for the mess... They just attacked suddenly. You won't attack, will you?"

The mech stopped its advance. It could talk his language? Or... more likely, it was being translated somehow. He had kept his body stiff and robotic until now. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure about fighting. Perhaps it was a bit shallow, but if everyone could speak his language, he wasn't so keen on killing everyone. But, for all of his flaws, he was still a sportsman. He sighed.

"Sorry. I have to."

Suddenly, the mech dropped its stiff pose, and switched to a fighting pose. Its arms became blades, and two small buzzsaws came out from its chest, whirring. Zaiza leapt at his opponent.

But Nova was ready. She dropped on her back as the mech flew overhead, weapons whirling, and kicked it from below. Parts of its torso flew off, exposing a small patch of blue scales. Something about those scales seemed familiar, like something from her recent memory. Suddenly, it hit her.

Literally. Zaiza detached the mech's foot with force as he flew past, so it would hit the creature. As the mech crashed on the ground, he scrambled to get it back up and steady.

"Hehehe, you're one strong fucker."

She smiled. "What can I say? I lift."

She stood up, her shoulder sore from the unexpected rocket kick. A robot would not be smart enough to try that underhanded tactic. It confirmed her suspicion that this was one of the contestants she saw earlier, a... biker dragon or something? It wasn't in the mecha she originally saw it in, though. Suddenly, she kicked the ground, then the wall. She flew to the side of the mech, grappling its head and twisting it to the ground.

Zaiza brought the mech's arm down to the ground, and used the momentum to get back in a standing position. But this creature wasn't letting go. It had his upper body in a lock. Then, he barely heard a whisper.

"We don't have to fight. I've got a plan."
[Image: 6xGo4ab.png][Image: sig.gif]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Sergeant Chult was having a very bad day. Not that there had been very many good days recently. No, no use worrying about that now - this day was especially bad. Some sort of power problem had prevented his alarm from going off and he had overslept. Then, to make matters worse, some idiot had decided to burgle the locker room. Not only had they left his uniform in a heap on the floor, they had taken the trail mix bars that should have been his breakfast when he was running late.

His sole source of remaining satisfaction would have been dressing down the recruits. After all, he was their sergeant – they would wait for him. When he arrived at the orientation deck, however, it seemed that someone had conducted the orientation without him. He spotted one of the station’s cannon fodder running past him with a packet in his hands and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“What’s this?” he demanded, snatching it out of the recruit’s hands and flipping through it. “An orientation packet? Someone made an orientation packet?

The startled private looked up. “Uh, yes sir. The, uh, executive gave them to us.”

“The executive?"

“Y-yes sir. One of the new pilots?”

“Why is a new pilot conducting an orientation for the security team?”

“I – I don’t know, sir.” After a brief pause, he added, “She was very enthusiastic.”

Chult rubbed his eyes in exasperation. “And I suppose it would be too much to hope that you lot at least directed her to the commander?”

Oh – yes sir. Private Cole took her.”

“Right. Glad that that’s settled. Now – where the hell is the rest of the security team?”

"Uh – fighting the aliens sir?”

“If there are aliens on board, why the hell hasn’t the alarm sounded?”

“Oh, right. The alarm. Well, uh, the aliens must have damaged the power or something. Transport panels and emergency lighting still works but -“

“Aha! So the aliens were responsible for everything!”


“Nevermind.” A vicious grin had grown over the sergeant’s face and an oversized pistol had appeared in his hand. “You and me, Private – we’re going to get the power back on. And if the aliens try to stop us, well… I’m just going to hope they do.”

The soldier gulped, and unslung the rifle from his back. “R-right. My name’s – “

“Don’t care. Let’s go.”
[Image: WFQLHMB.gif]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Also Willhelm had gone a rather long time without being stopped, given his situation. His steady stride had given him the appearance of a man that knew where he was going, and for the most part the crew running about the station were too preoccupied to bother. It wasn’t until he had made his way into the residential quarter that a weary looking soldier stopped to speak to him.

“Airman,” she said with a nod. “I’d have thought that you’d be at the hangar by now, but with the aliens already inside, we’ll take all the help we can get.” Private Tamatoa had already seen that this new batch of pilots was strange, and was pretty sure that no alien trying to blend in would have been wearing chainmail and a cape.

Also looked around for a moment, confirming that he was the one being spoken too. Though he understood the actual words being said, he had no idea as to what most of them meant. Well, he understood the woman had asked him for help, and he also knew that the Carp had always sent him where he was needed. That would have to be enough.
“Yes, I am here to help.”

“Well, we’ve been doing better than I’d have thought, given that we got caught with our pants down. Seems that a fair few of them have splattered already thanks to your buddies, but we still can’t be sure about how many of them are left. As long as civilian power’s down, most of our cameras are offline. Sergeant Chult passed by a second ago; said something about fixing it. Might be he could use another gun. Or axe.” The soldier looked at the archaic weapons with uncertainty.

“Then I shall find this sergeant and slay your enemies.”

“Uh, right. Know where the power room is?”

“I do not.”

Tamatoa sighed. “Well, I was hoping to stay out of Chult’s way. Whatever. It’s down through here.”
[Image: WFQLHMB.gif]
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
"We don't have to fight. I've got a plan."

Zaiza was confused by the blonde-haired flesh monkey. Just in case she had a good reason for being quiet, he responded with a low volume. “Why are you whispering?”

“People at home are watching.” she nodded up towards the drone.

Despite its primitive engineering, Zaiza recognized the purpose of the flying robot immediately. In the Multitech races camera drones were a common fixture. Zaiza felt a surge of confidence. He knew he was outclassed in this battle without his multitech, but at the very least he felt a little more himself in front of an audience.

“And what exactly is this pacifist plan of yours?” Snidely stressing the word pacifist, letting the girl know his thoughts on nonviolence. In his experience, pacifism rarely worked out well for the party practicing it.

Nova understood his concern, at the same time getting a greater insight to his character. “Let me rephrase that, We probably still have to fight, you and I just don’t have to be enemies.”

She gracefully maneuvered out of the body-lock, landing in front of the creature’s mechanical suit. She pushed the dragonoid towards the wall, and winked at him, relaxing the amount of force so he could make his move.

Zaiza understood what she was doing and engaged back in the fight performance. He threw a few uninspired throws her way which she bobbed around. She returned a few punches his way, barely making a dent in the scrap metal of the frame.

Nova no longer saw a need for whispering, “That amorphous blob... Margot, whatever it was, said it might kill as even if we win this bloodsport. And then we wound up here, in space, with cybernetic soldiers trying to murder all of us. We’re playing a game we don’t understand the rules to.”

The girl spoke the truth, as unfortunate as it might be. The few races he lost during his early career were not due to a lack of skill, but a significant misunderstanding of the course or his opponents, and he had resolved never to let a lack of information come between him and a victory again. He doubted he could trust a being who teleported a bunch of strangers to fight to the death to remain amicable and return him home, alive, even if he came out of this as the victor.

“If we work together, form a sort of alliance per-se, both of us stand a much better chance of getting out alive.” She leaned in for one last whispered message, “Instead of murdering each-other right here and now, we collaborate and focus on gathering intel.”

The whispering finally made sense to Zaiza, the girl was posturing to her audience. She clearly didn’t want to tarnish her reputation by having to murder people stuck in the same predicament as her, while streamed live for her people to see. He doubted that if his people were watching he would care enough to do the same, but then again, he’d never been filmed in a battle royale before. Suddenly, the girl stopped ‘fighting’ and extended her arm out toward him. “My name is Alex Albright.. Nova. Whichever you prefer, really. What do you say to being allies?”
Hi there! I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to read my adventure Madeline Beaufort and the Moon Thief! Thanks!
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Dope ass dragon created by the incomparable Earthexe
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
Noise drifted vaguely in the direction of consciousness. Somewhere nearby people were talking.

“What a fascinating specimen.” The voice was clipped, cold, clinical. “Biologically speaking the infiltrators have upped their game yet again, and just when we were getting the hang of spotting their biological tells…” A pause. “I could almost swear that she was-” A burst of arguing from other voices, Noise couldn’t tell what they were saying. “No no of course I’d never question a superior. Yes sir, right away sir.”

Noise returned to the blackness for a while. She slept dreamlessly, and awoke with a groan handcuffed to a desk in a featureless metal room with a mirror (probably a one way mirror) along one wall. “Fucking rude!” She said as she rubbed her aching head with the back of her hand. “That was uncalled for! Jesus Christ!”

We’re almost definitely looking at more than one shifter here, she thought; they already had protocols for identification in place, also they weren’t overjoyed that the menace was dead when they saw the sticky purple ooze all over the princess’ bedroom. Maybe that just meant they’d never managed to kill one before, but it was probably best to err on the side of more dangerous monsters than expected. Noise wondered how many there was, how effective their infiltration had been, how closely they could resemble a human. She hadn’t been immediately identified as human and released so pretty damn close she suspected, but alternately…

Well Shifter 101 is go after someone in power and take their place, right? She assumed that was what was going on with the princess. Who knows how compromised these people already are, and maybe they’re pulling some strings to discredit her.

This situation was a clusterfuck. If only she’d been here from the beginning she certainly wouldn’t be leaving anyone on their own. She’d insist upon groups of three at a minimum at all times & multiple codewords to be used in specific patterns. The important thing is to give a shifter no opportunity to infiltrate. Walking into a situation like this half way through, it already felt like a lost cause and she’d barely even started.

More importantly at this point: was there anything she could do to convince them she wasn’t a stunningly accurate facsimile of a human? She contemplated this question for a couple of minutes whilst hoping her headache would clear up of its own volition. She was having trouble envisioning a scenario wherein she managed to change anyone’s mind; even if she explained herself it would sound so far fetched that there was no chance. Her best bet, she considered was 1) arguing her incongruity (i.e. i do not blend in so i’d be a really bad infiltrator, but it always seemed to her that this was such a stock argument that those seeking to infiltrate could consider sending in those who were incongruous to take advantage of it) or 2) lying, which was going to be tough considering her lack of information about this place.

There was always option 3) just get the heck out of here, but that was always on the table. Since she was already here, already had the headache, she figured she might as well have the interrogation. It’d be such a waste otherwise.

It took her this long, long enough to decide to sit and wait patiently for her interrogator, for her to realize someone had taken her mask.
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RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
The Menace shook with a thunderous rapture as they realized a couple of significant developments had occurred. Two of their forward units had been defeated by a new force that seemingly had appeared from nowhere. Despite the fact that their carefully calculated plans had been foiled, it had been a long time since there had been any challenge in conquering races. The endless quest for power was, after all, endlessly boring.

In the early days of domination, these humans had been something of a enigma, but this was only due to a lack of information on how they behaved. Though at first humans seemed to be operating under a distinctly indecipherable set of rules, after the destruction of twelve colony ships, two armadas and the human homeworld, they had come to understand just how predictable humans were. All the Menace needed to do was apply pressure on multiple fronts and their precious power structure came crumbling down. This new force, however, wasn’t entirely composed by humans, and that presented a distinct challenge due to the unknown factors.

The infantry ship had docked itself on the belly of this human colony ship undetected. The foot-soldiers had been sent to control the hydroponics lab, starving the humans out, while embedded agitators sowed seeds of destruction in positions of power. With the humans hungry, restless and stupid it would have been an easy victory. There would have been minimal damage to the resources the Menace hoped to take for themselves. The game wasn't over, however, there were still two squadrons of infantry on the ship and a handful of embedded agitators, and the Menace would apply them in whatever way was most tactically advantageous. Unfortunately for the Menace, they couldn't see a way that these units would be capable of victory on their own.

They had received this intelligence like they had the rest, communicated through the technological implants of the children. All of the Menace’s children needed to operate independently, but be able to communicate strategy and intelligence back to the source. This being, a gargantuan mass of flesh and implanted technology, was both the brain, and womb of the operation. This “source” was the lynchpin of all Menace operations, it floated silently and undetected behind a large asteroid, as it gutted a victim of a previous campaign; another colony ship.

However, the Menace was nothing if not adaptable, literally physically adaptable, and this ability shaped how they made decisions. All the children had this same ability, to transform their physical selves to a shape that best suited the situation, and were implanted with the technology of the defeated enemies. The Menace decided, if they could not win through subtle manipulation, they would have to go all out. It was time to try a new strategy.

The menace began to put a rush job on the finishing touches of their most beloved and powerful breed of children, and unlike the agitators and infantry, this breed of Menace needed no ships to carry them through space. They were effectively functioned as their own ships, titans capable of great agility and even greater offensive capabilities. In the previous campaigns, the menace had used them to great success.

Only destruction was left in their wake. The Menace was sure now that there would be no more surprises, only righteous battle.
Hi there! I'd really appreciate it if you took some time to read my adventure Madeline Beaufort and the Moon Thief! Thanks!
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Dope ass dragon created by the incomparable Earthexe
RE: The Big Damn Fight- Humanity's Only Hope!
The commander’s door was a hideous olive-green slab of gunmetal, painted over in places with equally drab faded white paint. A perfectly square plaque proclaimed this to be the Office of the Commander, with several names crossed out underneath. In fact, even the last name - ‘Caterine Zwinger’ - was crudely crossed out, leaving the identity of the commander in doubt.

“Don’t be silly.” Geraldine knocked smartly on the door. “Commander Zwinger is still in command. She’s nice. A bit quiet, sometimes, but-”

A horrifying slurping sound emanated from under the door, cutting the private off.

“Even so,” Raime continued, ignoring the sound completely, “this is a bit of an oversight. I would have thought you’d be a little more organized.”

The sound terminated as abruptly as it had started, leaving only distressing silence. Then a voice, presumably the commander’s, spake thus: “Come in! I haven’t got all day.”

“[Bleep]ing [bleep].” Geraldine muttered under her breath, and turned the handle.

“Commander-” Raime began.

“Salute.” The commander was a tall woman, wearing a buzzcut, officers’ stripes, and a flinty expression. “What’re you, deaf? Show respect.”

Geraldine nudged her companion with her saluting elbow. “Do it!”

Hesitantly, Raime saluted, tapping the side of her palm to her temple. Alarmingly, she felt her head wobble at the touch.

“You call that a salute, airman? I was saluting better than that on my first day here. I was born saluting better than that.”

“My sincerest apologies, commander,” Raime said insincerely. She saluted again. This time the tape held.

The commander made a show of being dissatisfied, but turned her attention back to the desk before her. “What kind of shit have you dragged onto my desk this time, Geraldine? I swear if you weren’t my favorite, I’d…” She trailed off.

“I’m sorry, commander. Raime has, um. She has some ideas about our organization skills and how we might, um, optimize them.”

“If I might cut in, commander…” Raime took a step forward, and leaned over the desk, picking up a portable projector. “Ah, this’ll do.”

“[Bleep], Raime, don’t tell me you have...” Geraldine began, and let ‘a presentation’ trail off when Raime proceeded to display a presentation.

“From what I was able to gather from the recruits and from the various public access terminals, plus a few server intrusions, your resource allocation is lopsided. Very lopsided. You’ve devoted nearly every soldier to surface defense, even though-” Raime paused here to rifle through a thick binder on the commander’s desk - “regulations state that regular hourly patrols are to be held in all sectors, with double duty in mission-critical areas such as-” Flip, flip, flip. “Weapons control, heavy artillery batteries, the Central Intelligence Center, and so on. Strategic zones.”

“Are you questioning my authority, airman?” The commander hissed, indignant. “Everyone fucking knows the alien menace are going to attack from the approach side.”

Flip. flip. “But even with troop distribution, that doesn’t make sense. No patrols is one thing, but there’s one place that even non-assigned personnel on this base need to go.”

“Enlighten me.”

Flip, flip, flip, flip. “Hydroponics. Hydroponics has had no patrol for ten continuous hours.” Raime’s lips were set in a hard line. “What’s more, no product has moved from Hydroponics to Preparation in the last ten hours; so my real question is this, commander-”

In one swift motion, she turned the projector to maximum brightness, aiming it directly into the commander’s eyes.

“What have you done with the real Caterine Zwinger?”