Crasical Posted July 17, 2023 Author Share Posted July 17, 2023 Alright, that concludes the first 8 Matches of the tournament. The next set of eight will determine our Quarterfinals. I'll be moving to probably updating on Tuesday and Thursday for the next block of 8, with one character introduction and the fight scene a week. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted July 18, 2023 Author Share Posted July 18, 2023 Spoiler At Seed 1, our arbitrarily placed strongest-fighter, we have Gwendolyn 'Looter Goblin' Gates. GG was 10 when her home city of Eastgate collapsed into the ground in The Hollowing, and 12 when the Rikti attacked Paragon City. The one-two punch left her parents missing, the heroes that once protected her streets dead, fled, or having repositioned to more tactically important locations than the huge hole in the ground that made up most of The Hollows. For any sort of security and protection she fell in with the the local street gangs. Bouncing between the Skulls, Hellions, and Lost, she eventually made her home with the Trolls, started using Superadyne, and set off a career as a petty criminal and minor hoodlum. GG had hoped that the 'Dyne would bulk her up, give her the super-strength and stamina that the gang was known for. That wasn't the case, and even today she isn't really sure why: Having a series of tiny doses strung out over a long time, the drug being cut with some mutagenic filler, or the remaining Shift in her system from her time with the Lost, some reaction left her without the desired musculature. While she still turned green and grew her tusks in, she didn't get any horns, her hair didn't fall out, and instead of becoming muscle-bound and towering, she *shrunk*. She's sub 4-foot, now. Heightened speed and reflexes and unimpaired intelligence might have been considered a good tradeoff for the Troll's clouded minds and raw strength, but the gang rarely valued such things. Small, green, and expendable, Gwen was promptly nicknamed 'Goblin' and used as a courier, gofer, and general menial laborer.It was only after months of nagging that she was given a more important job in the gang, buying and distributing Dyne among the Trolls in Skyway City. It was her big chance to prove her worth to the gang; and she immediately blew it by getting arrested. Prison is rough even when you *don't* need a stool to reach the water fountain. For Gwen, it was hell: The Trolls were hardly respected in the Zig to begin with, and Gwen was a super runty, defenceless variant thereof. Every day was an exercise in avoiding other inmates that wanted to steal her comissary tokens, hide contraband in her ass, kick her like a football to relieve stress, or whatever else crossed their mind. Every day her resentment grew and grew, a desire for revenge that was more keen than her longing for freedom. After ten long years, Gwen was released, but not rehabilitated. She'd spent ten years in the company of criminals, and she'd long ago started a list: Every secret they'd ever let slip. The stashes, the caches, the secret bases, the stockpiles. She hit them all, there and gone in a flash. The image of the stubby thief vanishing out the front door with a sack of loot over her shoulder was common enough across a whole spectrum of criminals and for a full month that it earned her her current title, 'The Looter Goblin'. Gwendolyn has refined her approach since then, but her methods remain the same. Though armed with dual pistols, a katana, and a lot of spite, she's a thief first and foremost; she rarely applies lethal force if she can help it. Her greatest weapon is a chemistry set: tampering with superadyne to purify, amplify, or heighten its effects. It also is where she creates loads the chemical components of the capsule rounds or injection darts she uses, Looter Goblin is a Science Blaster with Dual Pistols and Ninja Training as her powersets. Her ancillary set is Munitions Mastery, with pool picks in Speed and Fighting. Her notable powers are as follows: [Match Compensator Dualies] Enhanced reflexes and good peripheral vision make using paired pistols feasible, though reloading remains tricky. Twice the gun is twice the firepower, and Looter Goblin is skilled enough to perform a variety of trick shots with her signature purple-tinted heavy pistols. [Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu] A sword art based around iado, the act of drawing the blade and attacking in a single, smooth movement, no matter if the user is seated, standing, in a variety of terrain, and against one or many opponents. Looter Goblin learned this from a series of instructional VHS tapes and is not a master, but speed and surprise are her mainstays rather than raw power, so being able to smoothly pivot from pistols to blade fits her natural inclinations well. [Run & Gun] Speed and stealth make Looter Goblin a highly mobile combatant, vanishing behind cover only to appear, repeatedly ambushing targets. [Fun with Chemistry] A baffling variety of drugs and poisons. While Looter Goblin doesn't usually kill, she has no issue with dosing her opponents with hallucinagens, paralytics, and tranquilizers. More than one power-armored opponent has found themselves dosed with a powerful emetic and been forced to remove their helmet in a hurry. [Break Action Grenade Launcher] Comes with gas grenades and high explosive grenades. Supplemental firepower, and yet *another* weapon to juggle between her pistols and katana. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted July 21, 2023 Author Share Posted July 21, 2023 Match 9: Seed 1 Looter Goblin versus Seed 16 Samuel Hain There's a careful balance between the amount of work available and suitable for rookie heroes, and the amount of new heroes to tackle it. Ideally, it's balanced: There's enough work for newly registered heroes to experience live fire exercises. If it swings too far one way, the low-level criminals of the city are cowed and in hiding, and the newbies have to make do with training seminars or sidekicking alongside more experienced capes. If it goes too far the other way, then more experienced heroes need to step in and clean up work that is, technically, beneath them. Gwen *loved* when that happened. Moral philosophers, parents,teachers, and the general public generally put a dim view on the strong bullying the weak. Well, fuck that! Bullying the weak is *great!* It's fun! Enemies that can't really fight back are the best! Being morally in the right when picking on people at a much lower ability level than you is the best part of being a hero. "HAAAA HA HA HA HAAAAAA!" She cackled maniacally, twisting and pirouetting, snap-firing at the mass of Hellions. The cultists went down, vomiting, foaming at the mouth, spasming, as the various chemical rounds took effect. Their return fire was the undisciplined rapid bang-bang-bang of panic fire, unaimed, easy enough for her to weave through, juking back and forth between the bullets and the bolts of flame. Her pistols clicked empty and she let go of them, letting them snap back to the magnetized holsters at her hips, rapidly drawing the katana over her shoulder Iajutsu style. Kicking off the floor, then a concrete pillar, she got plenty of height before a plummeting descent, her blade dissecting one of the gang's succubuses, the Girlfriend From Hell vanishing in a screech of rage and a blast of green fire. Stopping to plant one of her boots into the ribs of a still conscious but groaning hellion, she casually reloaded her twin pistols, the heavy match compensators spinning around her dexterous little fingers. "Man, I do love hitting up small fry likeyou guys. It's not like you have anything good to take, and half of this magical stuff is gonna have to go back to M.A.G.I., but it's nice to see you shitty smug satanists get taken down a peg." She snickered sadistically, casually slicing the lock off a crate before tossing her katana aside casually, where it stick point-first into a cardboard box. Looking into the crate, she nodded at the collection of sinister idols, wands, and curvy-bladed knives, before taking both of her pistols and tossing them into the crate. ...Wait, what? Why did I do that? She wondered, as she unslung her grenade launcher and tossed it in as well. Her smoke bombs and flash powder went in too, and she had to do a little hop to grab the lid and pull it back down onto the treasure chest. A smile came to her lips, unbidden, as she turned and sashayed past the beaten hellions, humming a tuneless little melody to herself. Her mind raced, her eyes flicking about in a panic. What the fuck? Why? Why can't... my body's moving on its own! Opening the door at the end of the room, her nose was assailed with a sweet, crisp scent. Apples, fallen leaves. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger. The floor of the room was coated with orange and brown and yellow leaves, inexplicably tilled soil below it. Large, swollen gourds, big orange pumpkins grew from wrist-thick vines. One enormous pumpkin was the centerpiece of the room, as big around as a king-size bed. "...So this is some kind of *wild* magic bullshit." She realized after a moment that she'd spoken that aloud, some of the hold on her body weakening. She tried to move her arms or legs, but could only just move her head a few degrees. She could fight this off, whatever it was, if she had time- "Now, now. language, young lady." The voice would have made her jump a foot in the air if she could move a muscle. The towering scarecrow was lounging atop the huge pumpkin, his pumpkin-headed gape of a grin staring at her as she cheerfully skipped up to him. She almost took offense to that, she didn't *skip*; but there were more pressing concerns: Namely, the scarecrow's claws looked awfully sharp. Hain reached out one hand, gently tucking a claw under her chin and using it to tilt her gaze up to meet his own. "...And just who the hell are you? Mr. October?" "Now, now, language." "'Hell' isn't a fucking swear!" Was this it? This was how it was going to go out? Some horrible pumpkin monster was going to slash her throat, or disembowel her. Maybe it'd be a fully fledged decapitation, or it'd rend her limbs off or something... There was no telling what this horrible magical monster would or could do to her. She'd messed up, somehow, somewhere, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Maybe agreeing to help out M.A.G.I.? That must have been it. If, on the off chance she survived this, she was swearing off helping people. "The name is Hain, Samuel Hain. And-" "Alright, 'Sam', let me the hell go already." If it was possible for a jack-o-lantern to look disgruntled, 'Sam' did. The claw went from under her chin to the scruff of her neck, grabbing her by the collar and hauling her into the air. The scarecrow man was *strong!* "...as I was saying. A certain friend of mine has asked me to watch over those artifacts. While the Hellions are of no consequence to me, I can't have thieves and troublemakers getting their dirty hands all over those stone tablets." "Fine! Message delivered! I'll leave your magical doodads alone Now lemmego, you orange bastard!!" Gwen kicked and struggled, realizing that more and more feeling was coming back into her limbs. She swung a boot into the scarecrow, though it bounced back off something much more solid than a bundle of wooden poles and straw ought to be. Hain, contemptuously, dropped her, the shorty troll landing across his knees with a 'whuff' of expelled breath. Reaching down, he carefully grabbed her wrists, folding them behind her back and pinning them there with one hand, leaving the other free, keeping the squirming, kicking blaster trapped in his grip. "Insolent mortal! I am of the Gentry, a lord of the Unseelie Court!" Gwen let out a startled yelp as Hain's hand came down on her backside, her squirming and kicking redoubling. Her body was her own again, whatever momentary possession that had afflicted her now past, though without her weapons her ability to fight back was minimal, less so when pinned by the supernaturally strong scarecrow. "OW!" The hand came down again, favoring the right side of her prodigious backside this time. Gwen favored durable, tight-fitting blue jeans, hard wearing denim that was resistant to any high-speed skidding or sliding that might be necessary during parkour or a gunfight, the tight fit ensuring it didn't snag or hang on anything. Right now, it outlined her wide hips and plush bottom a little too well, and the durability wasn't doing nearly enough for her tastes. "Oh, and, belatedly. Language." His hand came down with a sharp crack, and another squeal of pain. She wasn't being torn to bloody ribbons, nor having her bones broken with supernatural strength. She wasn't even really being bruised. But the spanking was damnably uncomfortable and, more to the point, hideously undignified. Her heavy steel-toed boots kicked and thrashed about, landing a few harsh blows on the Dominator, and a torrent of invictive fell from her lips, every swear she knew and a few that she invented on the spot, insulting the dominator, his entire line of ancestry both backwards and forwards, his behavior, hobbies, and his stupid pumpkin face and lack of proper feet. Hain, for his part, kept up a measured, rhythmic beating. Each spank was hard enough to emit a loud smack that would cut through the Goblin's cursing and protesting, usually followed by a yelp or squeal. The complaints lost coherency at around the count of fifteen swats, Hain carefully meting out punishment to make sure that her green butt was evenly coated with stinging red handprints. At the twenty swat mark, the little goblin broke down openly crying, sniffling and sobbing in pain and shame. Hain continued her treatment all the way to the count of 25 for good measure, before releasing the grip on her wrists, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck again and hauling her up off his lap. "Well, now, have anything to sa-" He immediately caught a fist to the jaw. The blow was more startling than anything, and he stared at her incredulously, the tiny blaster dangling from his claw, teary-eyed but defiant. "I don't believe this. Incorrigible." "Fucker!" Gwen woke up an hour later, laying on her stomach on a paragon bus stop's bench. Her backside throbbing and swollen, aching and sore. With a groan, she pushed herself up, cutching her wounded pride with one hand and a grimace. Checking herself, she found her sword, pistols, chemicals, and grenade launcher all in order. At least he hadn't kept her stuff. "Ow. Okay." Standing properly, she took a few wobbling steps. "...let's just call this a wash and go home already... And never mention this to anyone, ever." Looter Goblin v s Samuel Hain Deals Lethal and Toxic damage, somewhat resists Lethal damage ✔️ Deals Dark and Lethal Damage, heavily resists Lethal damage Defiant ✔️ Powerful Mez Capability Defiance doesn't stop Confusion ✔️ Confusion No Bonus Perception ✔️ Invisibility G.G. doesn't have bonus perception, so Hain gets the ambush. He stacks up Confusion via Possession, and Defiance only works on Sleeps, Stuns and Holds, leaving her totally helpless, with her mobility and preference to fight at range both nullified. G.G. gets to experience the Dominator playstyle of 'Mez and Melee' or 'Tie Them Up and Whip Them' firsthand in one of the most one-sided stomps we've had. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted July 25, 2023 Author Share Posted July 25, 2023 Spoiler Today we introduce our Seed 8, the heroic Scrapper, La Colmilla Noche, the Night Fang. Mexican wrestlers take their secret identities just as seriously as superheroes, in some cases, even more so. The mask is synonymous with the wrestler, and having it removed is dishonorable; several famous luchadors have continued to wear their masks even after retirement, El Santo, the most famous Luchador of all, was buried wearing his. This does somewhat complicate tracing the origins of Colmilla, who goes out of her way to cultivate an aura of mystery. The few facts she's let slip about her life before entering the ring indicate she came from the countryside, living on a ranch that raised horses, cattle, and goats. She's kept secret any prior training, or if she had wrestled under a different name or mask prior to her 'debut' as the Night Fang at a wrestling event in Mexico City where she defeated six other opponents in a battle royale. Instantly a crowd favorite despite her rudo style of fighting (A more brawling focused and less technical style, associated with Heel wrestlers), her career took off in a big way, attracting the attention of the current champion, El Gran Mal, 'The Great Evil'. Recruiting her as a protoge, student, and tag-team partner, Colmilla and Gran Mal spearheaded the 'Era of Darkness' in their league, the pair of Rudos crushing heroic Technico wrestlers left and right. During this time Colmilla sharpened her style, adapting the teachings of her new mentor to her own style; emphasizing speed and agility over his focus on sheer inhuman strength and durability. Before long enemies could't lay a hand on her, while her spinning, whirling aerial moves blurred the line between brawling and technico fighting. Gran Mal's retirement ended the partnership, he simply had nothing left to teach his pupil. With his 12th consecutive title defense, he left the ring unconquered. Entering retirement with his pride and mask intact, he left the title open, implicitly expecting his protoge to take the title for herself. She did, and held the title for another three years. By this point, La Colmilla Noche, the vampire, the night fang, the silver mask, the slayer, had achieved a great deal of fame in her chosen profession; and had started to plateau. Refusing to stagnate, she began to enter metahuman leagues, wrestling against mutants with super-strength and impervious skin, or those who could generate flame or darkness. The thrill of challenging superhumans was incredibly addictive, and she chose to abandon her championship title to focus soley on these exciting metahuman-league matches. Brawling her way through the best and brightest of Mexico's superpowered wrestlers, she soon found herself standing at the top of the pile once again. From there, where was there left to go? She remained unsatisfied. She wasn't done yet. Paragon City called to her. Her friends and colleagues called her foolhardy, reckless, to leave the ring, to challenge ruthless supervillains who wouldn't obey the rules of Lucha LIbre, to put her life on the line to continue to sharpen her already superb skills, to abandon her sparkling career record to become a vigilante in America. Colmilla ignored them. The only one she consulted was her former mentor, Gran Mal, who encouraged her. She left for America. Her first few years in Paragon were rough. Her English wasn't very good, and she was fighting actual superheroes and villains, and often large groups of minions, something her style wasn't geared towards. Slowly, she adapted, and has settled into full-time heroism. Despite her glamorous career in wrestling, she's remained fairly obscure as a heroine; others with better, flashier powers tend to take center stage. She's somewhat annoyed by this, but does enjoy the upsides of obscurity: watching the professional soldiers in the Nemesis Army or Malta react with horrified disbelief at a Mexican Wrestler twisting their allies into pretzels hasn't stopped being funny to her. Colmilla is a Natural Scrapper with Street Justice and Super Reflexes as her powersets. Her ancillary set is Body Mastery, with power picks in Leaping, Fighting, and Medicine. Her notable powers are: [Lucha Libre (Rudo)] A step above merely brawling, Colmilla's fighting style uses her fists, feet, knees and elbows in lightning fast and powerful blows. [Lucha LIbre (Technico)] While she still identifies as a heel, a 'bad girl' brawler, Colmilla has picked up a few flashy, spinning and twisting aerial moves to help deal with large crowds. [Silver Flash] Reflexes and speed honed to the degree that most enemies never even manage to touch Colmilla. Fighting a whole group, she becomes a blur of brown, black and silver. [From the top rope!] Colmilla can jump kind of ridiculously high and runs very fast. While she isn't quite a speedster, covering ground isn't usually an issue for her. [Tech-Medkit] Colmilla goes into battle wearing a revealing leather costume, her mask, and a championship belt. The single concession to gadgetry she has is a high-tech medical scanner that she uses to patch herself up 'between rounds'; more contributing to sustain than as an in-combat heal. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted July 31, 2023 Author Share Posted July 31, 2023 Match 10: Seed 8 Colmilla versus Seed 9 Lord Romulus "Oy! Pendejo!" Romulus blinked, looking up from his tablet. He'd gotten comfortable at one of the tables at the end of the bar in Pocket D, overlooking the AE wing. A sticky-sweet mixed drink and some bar peanuts flanked the tablet he'd been using to tune an AE simulation he'd wanted to run simulating an encounter with some of his robotic minions, trying to prune out nonviable lines of development. "...Are you talking to me?" "Who else is here?" The masked woman planted a hand on the table and leaned over him, gesticulating with one hand, but his eyes were immediately drawn down to the excessive amount of cleavage on display; two form-fitting leather straps running down the front of her body making up the bulk of the woman's skimpy costume. Face slightly reddening, he ogled, before dragging his eyes back up to her face. The mask was a stylized pair of fangs, framed by medium length dark hair, a pair of bat-wings mounted near the back to give a vampire-like appearance. "The robot with the big hands, it belongs to you, right?" "...That's right. Hmmph. More and more people are spreading that info around.." "So, what happened to it?" Romulus sighed, leaning back in his seat and grabbing his drink, sipping at it fussily. "New regulations from the powers-that-be. Apparently the same big-hands-technology I was connected to some stuff that could cause dangerous breaches in the fabric of reality, so they shut down the entire line of research. Vanguard, the FBSA, even Arachnos all agreed to enforce the ban." "What a shame." The woman slid into the booth opposite him. "I never got a chance to try it out myself." Romulus choked on his drink, covering his mouth as he lapsed into a coughing fit. The Big Hands Robot had been at least partly a practical joke; his prototype and test bed for robotics. He'd learned a lot building it, and had kept it around mostly out of nostolgia. Refitting it with giant metal hands, writing 'SPANKING MACHINE' on its chest, and sending it off to the Pocket D was a deliberate troll on his part. He'd been surprised (and titilated) when a few of the superpowered clientelle had actually made use of the machine's services. "You wanted to try it?" His voice was incredulous. "...As a sparring partner. It seemed plenty strong." He cleared his throat, glowering. She was deliberately teasing him, he could tell. "...If it's strength you're after, my personal armor is much more powerful than that prototype." "Is that sooooo?" She drawled out the last word. "Well, wouldn't you object to a... private exhibition, then?" [...] "THIS IS NOT PRIVATE." The roar of the crowd, the hooting of the monkey. The fight club, the pocket D fight cage. Specators cheered and jeered, as Colmilla stretched, flexing and bending to provoke the crowd further. "Haha, sorry, kid! It's a shame it worked out this way." "...Tsk. Okay, that's it. I've been tolerating you because you're p-pretty, but that's enough of that!" With a roar of purple light, Romulus was hauled into the air, his armor teleporting in around him piece by piece. HIs long purple impervium-weave cape fluttered behind him, and his shield and beam sword ignited with sizzling energies as he took up a combat stance. "Defend yourself!" "With pleasure." Colmilla surged forward, throwing a quick combo of jabs at the purple energy shield that Romulus threw up, then feinting to the left, ducking low and going for a sweeping kick. HIs blade flashed over her head as she dropped down into the crouch, and she had to roll to the side as it came down vertically, an awkward angle due to stumbling after the sweep-kick. Flicking the blade black up, a disemboweling strike had her side-stepping and going in to grab his sword arm, going for a throw, but he vanished out of her grip, teleporting a pace away and going in for a shield bash. Colmilla leaped up, planted both her feet on the incoming rush, and used it as a springboard, launching herself up high and to the mesh of the cage, gripping a hold of it for a moment before dropping down, using her momentum for a spinning drop-kick that sent Romulus reeling. Stumbling back a pace, he set his stance and triggered his suit's eye beams, sending bolts of energy towards the luchadora as she rushed back into melee range, having to roll and tumble to avoid the incoming ranged blasts. Raising his sword high he leaned forward, his height and the extra reach of the blade let him bring it down in a smiting blow that scythed through the air like the fist of god. Colmilla juked to the side, the blow shattering the concrete, sending chips of stone up in a reverse hail. Before he could draw his sword from the stone, Colmilla had stepped on his wrist, using the position to launch herself hip-first at his other hand, smashing his shield-arm wide and out of position. Spinning, Colmilla landed in a crouch, and then lept up, twisting in the air to come at him horizontally. Two full rotations in, she caught his head between her thighs, snapping his head back. She let her grip slip enough to swing around to his back, using her weight to drag the powersuit around in a half circle before her weight pulled him backwards enough for her to put her palms on the ground. With something to brace against, she heaved, pulling him over backwards and slamming his head into the ground. Rising, Colmilla went to survey her handiwork, nodding approvingly at the bent and dented metal of her opponent. "...Not bad, I suppose. For a warmup." "Nghuuuh...t-thighs....." Colmilla V S Lord Romulus Deals Smashing damage. Heavily resists Lethal damage ✔️ ✔️ Deals Lethal and some Energy damage. Heavily resists Smashing Damage. Gains extreme resistance to Lethal at 1/3rd health and below Gains extreme resistance to Smashing for 3 minutes Supreme evasion Very strong evasion Enhanced Perception Superior Stealth Interruptable self-heal Unstable self-repair Luchador Spirit ✔️ Weak vs. Strong Women They're so similar it was hard to call. Whenever either had a standout advantage, the other would counter it. While I did note that since Rommie can't land consistent hits, he can't build up his Assassin's Focus enough to get that good damage spike he wants in; the real ultimate decider is that Romulus is a huge dork and can't handle powerful heroines or villainesses very well. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 1, 2023 Author Share Posted August 1, 2023 Spoiler At seed 4, we have our first Soldier of Arachnos, the widow Hivemind. The most powerful psychic networks on earth? The Carnival of Shadows would be in the running. The Devouring Earth, as well. In another world, the Seer Network was refined to near perfection. However, the most most militarized and disciplined psychics belong to Arachnos. Trained from childhood, the Widows and Bane Spiders form two divisions, an assault on Destiny, and on Free Will itself. Bane Spiders link inwards, forming a chain of self-reinforcing discipline. A psychic panopticon, where any errant or treasonous thought is located and eliminated. Absolute loyalty, a hive-mind of soldiers that cannot be swayed nor have their will broken. Fortunata, by contrast, expand their psychic senses outwards, casting their network outward to predict from what is 'now' what will happen in the future. The Fortunata Seers forsee the future, and can alter, twist, and bend it to a desired outcome, shaping what will be to the greater service of Arachnos. Their armor, their masks, their helmets, serve to homogenize the psychics. Their individuality is not important, as they are all parts of a greater whole. Individual behavior that is disruptive, quirks in how one acts or thinks or fights, are all abraded away. Even so, anomalous individuals do crop up from time to time. Those with useful individualities are given special status, while those with problematic quirks are eliminated. It follows then, that a quirk that destabilizes and subverts the purpose of the Fortunata and Bane Spiders would be considered exceedingly dangerous. Such a person would be in mortal danger, for Arachnos as an organizaton could not risk letting them survive. The Hivemind has, in light of this fact, taken extreme lengths to erase her name and identity from all records. Once an ordinary Fortunata, her powers twisted, mutated. She infiltrates mental links, subtly, slowly. She spreads her influence through them, slowly adding a golden, honeyed filter to the thoughts of all who remain in the link. Those begin to love her, to cherish her, to desire to protect and obey her. Her presence in a base will slowly twist it from a spider's web to a hive, with her as the queen bee. At her command, the soldiers within mark their armor with yellow spray paint, openly changing their affiliation to serve under her. While she at one point feared for her life, she is now resolute in her course of action. Arachnos cannot allow her to survive, she is too direct a threat to their organization. She has abandoned what remained of her old life as a child on the streets of Grandville, of a recruit in the organization. Former comrades and friends have been forgotten. Her only choice is to win or die; to subsume the organization and turn Grandville, the entire rogue isles, into a massive hive, to usurp Lord Recluse, or to perish at his hands. There is no point in cursing her fate; this is simply how it has to be. Hivemind is a Natural Arachnos Widow in the Fortunata branch. She has no Ancillary pool, with pool picks in Flight and Medicine. Her notable powers are: [Queen Bee's Sting] Though high ranking Fortunata eschew melee combat entirely, focusing on their psychic powers, Hivemind retains her poisoned, implanted blades from her time as a Widow. She has become fairly proficient in their use, attacking from ambush or whirling about in a crowd of opponents with equal proficiency. [Queen's Command] While the brainwashing effect he has on allies is more subtle than a scalpel, this is is a sledgehammer. A concentrated psychic demand to collapse, or submit rendered so strong as to be considered an attack. [Wings] Hivemind has no telekinetic abilities. Her wings are fully mechanical, attached to an anti-gravity harness. Becoming weightless, the buzzing insectile wings propel her along at a decent rate. [Mask Presence] A combination of infiltration training, psychic concealment, and ruthenium-polymer optical camouflage, this renders the user (nearly) invisible. [Queen's Caress] Allied forces, both temporary teammates and servants, recieve a substantial power boost in her service. LInking minds, she provides a great deal of support and coordination. [Toxicology] The dose determines the difference between poison and medicine. Using some of her own poison can dull the pain of wounds and keep Hivemind in the fight long enough for her natural healing to kick in. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 3, 2023 Author Share Posted August 3, 2023 Match 11: Seed 4 Hivemind vs. Seed 20 The Cartoonist The Cartoonist tapped the Bane Spider on the shoulder, waiting for him to turn around before socking him in the face with an oversized boxing glove. The man collapsed in a heap, Toons shaking his hand and letting the ink construct melt back into his body as he continued silently down the corridors of the arachnos base. Something was deeply wrong here; he'd already unhelmed and spent a few moments poking and prodding at a Fortunata he'd subdued a few roms ago. No secret Nemesis automatons, no Devouring Earth spores, no hippie genie happiness waves. These were all real human Arachnos soldiers, so why...? A lot of the sinister red lights he'd come to associate with the organization had been tinted, now shining a cheerful yellow instead. Yellow hilights on their armor (He'd almost raised an alarm earlier kicking an empty spray-paint can he hadn't noticed laying on the mesh flooring). What was going on? He peered around a corner, snapping his fingers and dropping a pool of ink in front of some patrolling arachnobots, the tarantula stepping on the puddle and dropping into it as if he'd plummeted down a pitfall, allowing The Cartoonist to proceed onward. The banners, in particular, he found unsettling. More yellow and black, this time with the simple emblem of a bee inside a hexagon. A bolt of yellow fabric and a stencil and black spraypaint, quickly and crudely assembled, but a banner of rebellion all the same. Something had changed this base, and he was the first to stumble in and realize that all was not well. Enough so that he was considering alerting the 'authorities' and taking this up with an Arbiter once he got out. Well, once he got out with his prize. He was here for a reason, after all. The Diabolical Deviant, Doctor Dolphin had finally met his end at the hands (and oversized mallets) of the Carnival of Shadows, and even a minor villain like the good doctor tended to engender a certain surge of nostolgic upon their passing. Enough of a surge that people might pay well for memorabilia; such as might be found in an evidence lockup in an out-of-the-way storage base like this one. Old gadgets, first generation costumes, even his dossier from stints in arachnos prisons. It was a minor payday, but a man had to eat. Well, a minor payday that was now entirely not worth the vigorous creep factor of this base. He stopped behind a looming Crab Spider, sketching out an oversized carnival mallet and giving it a few practice swings before stopping, sketching out a wooden crate to stand on, and then getting the correct height to land an overhead wood-chopping swing on the top of the hulking power-armored riot cop's head, sending them pitching over with cartoon stars around their head. There, last hurdle. He tossed the hammer away, hurrying into the records and storage wing. He took a minute to adjust his gloves as the system slowly booted up. The yellow light of the terminal was so refreshing, so pretty. A marked improvement on the murky, hard-to-read screens that Arachnos usually employed. The Cartoonist hadn't had actual hairs on the back of his neck in several years, but something still rippled and prickled there. He turned, finding a woman standing there. Much of her face was concealed behind a mask, segmented, insectile lenses mimicking a bug's compound eyes giving an ambigious quality to her stare. Black and white insect wings twitched and flickered from between her shoulder blades. Her shoulder length hair was a shocking white, and she wore a tight outfit of yellow, grey, and gold. LIving in the Rogue Isles, the skintight bodysuit was something you generally got use to. Even for people who never stopped finding the look particularly stimulating, you generally found a way to at least remain functional. The Cartoonist had already passed and subdued almost a dozen Widows and Fortunata on his way here; for many they were the peak of seductive lethality. However, this one... well, his heart couldn't race, nor could his mouth go dry. But she was more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen in his life. "...So, who are you, and what are you doing here?" The words couldn't tumble from his lips fast enough. She was enthralling. Gorgeous. He told her EVERYTHING, why he was here, what he hoped to take, his thoughts on the decor. "....Well. I'll take the interior design suggestions into consideration." The sarcasm was like a lash, and he found himself babbling, trying to apologize, as he sank to his knees. "No, no. Nevermind that." At some point, she'd taken wing, hovering effortlessly over the floor as if weightless. The Cartoonist was unnaturally tall and spindly, but with him on his knees and her in the air, the height difference was more than equalized, he was at the right height to grovel and kiss her boots, if she asked. "I've never heard of this 'Doctor Dolphin', but I don't have any need for anything in the evidence lockup here, either. You're free to take whatever you like." He rested his forehead on the ground, groveling in the face of her generocity. It wasn't just beauty, it was *truth*. She was so right, so kind. He loved her. "...However, I can't have you going to the Arbiters about this." He looked up, finding her face suddenly very close, his body rippling as a shiver ran through it. Her gloved hand cupped his chin, bringing his gaze up, to look directly into those faceted goggle lenses, seeing his own face reflected back at him dozens of times, distorted like a funhouse mirror. "This is just going to be our little secret, okay~?" She elongated the last syllable, playfully. He found himself nodding, agreeing. How could he not? How could he refuse a request from a beautiful woman, no, from the love of his life? Such a small request! He'd have to be some kind of heel to turn her down. "So, I'm going to let you take what you want, and let you go." The widow leaned back, as if seated on an invisible bench. She waited, then gently pressed the tip of her heeled boot under his chin, pressing him up, to rise. "...Consider this a special favor for only using nonlethal force on my followers. Don't come back to my hive again, little villain." She remained behind him, hovering as he stood, frantically using the terminal to recover the files and boxes he had come for. She escorted him to the exit of the base once he had what he'd come here for, then left. He watched her walk away, entranced by the sway of her hips as she walked, until she receded entirely into the shadows of the hive. He wanted to go back, to go after her, but she had asked him to go, and never speak of this again, and he couldn't possibly disobey her commands. And for some reason, his instincts were screaming at him to run. For some reason, a part of him was acting like he had just narrowly escaped death. How strange. Hivemind v s The Cartoonist Deals Lethal, Toxic, and Psychic damage. Resists Smashing and Cold damage ✔️ Deals Cold and some Smashing damage. Resists Smashing damage. Stealth ✔️ No Bonus Perception Confuse ✔️ No Confuse Resistance MOOOOOM IT HAPPENED AGAIN The 'spam confuse from stealth' strat's pretty broken. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 9, 2023 Author Share Posted August 9, 2023 Spoiler At seed 5, we have the transforming heroine Magia Prisma, the mahou shoujo warrior. Magical Girls are a known phenomenon, though they mostly occur in the island nation of Japan. While there is a degree of varianc in the where and how they come about, the Tres Magia magical girl teams are considered emblematic of the archetype. With over twenty teams over the past two decades, the Tres Magia are unconnected, but follow a recurring fomula: A paralell world (usually a 'Fairy Kingdom') is attacked and conquered by an evil invading force. As a last resort, the kingdom sends several representatives to earth, who find three (usually, sometimes as few as two, and sometimes as many as six) schoolgirls (middle schoolers to high-schoolers), and grant them a special transformation device; and a mission to obtain or protect a certain object crucial to the invader's plans; eventually saving both Earth and the Fairy Kingdom. While the magical girls operate under pseudonyms with secret identities, their exploits while 'in costume' are generally extremely popular, with fan-cams of their fights and city patrols frequently uploaded to the internet; inspiring fan-fiction, fan-manga (Doujinshi), and hundreds of the thousands of words of speculation on forums and chat programs. The fandom extends outside their home nation of Japan, with many worldwide proclaiming themseles to be fans of Magical Girls, and the Tres Magia in particular. While not the first American magical girl, Magia Prisma is the first recorded Tres Magia to appear outside of Japan. Veditore, a fairy from the Shining Melody Kingdom, cannot explain this, merely stating that Paragon City had the proper 'resonance' needed for him to travel there from his home dimension. Upon his arrival, he contracted with a local girl, a huge fan of magical girls in general and Tres Magia in particular, but before he could locate another two girls to form a full magical girl team, the villainous invaders Ombra Illuminata attacked... and were resoundingly defeated by the city's heroes. In fact, the heroes followed the attacking villains back to the conquered Shining Melody Kingdom and liberated it, swooping in and resolving the incident single handedly in only a matter of hours. While Veditore apologized and offered to take back the transformation pendant, the young lady refused. Being a magical girl was always her dream, after all, and even if the Shining Melody Kingdom had been saved, there was still plenty of danger threatening Paragon City. She would use the powers she'd been given as long as she could, fighting solo for peace and justice, and living out her cherished wish of being just like the magical girls she so admired. Magia Prisma is a Magic Brute with War Mace and Energy Aura as her powersets. Her ancillary set is Energy Mastery, with pool picks in Flight and Fighting. Her notable powers are as follows: [Magical Transformation] "The heart of a maiden is a pure, white light! Refracted through a prism, it becomes a rainbow of color! Transform, Magia Prisma! HENSHIN!" [Shining Rod] A glowing baton or wand that vanquishes evil. Apparently, Prisma thought it would shoot beams, but apparently she's not that sort of magical girl. Using it as a melee weapon works just as well. [Radiance] A glowing aura that deflects attacks, protecting Prisma from a wide variety of attacks. [Float] Magical girls can fly, it's a standard ability! To her great dismay, she couldn't do this initially. Veditore had to step in and adjust her pendant to grant her this seemingly-mandatory power. [Starstruck] Apparently, Veditore's fairy kingdom runs on the admiration and cheers of the crowd. This has lead Prisma to promote herself like an idol, holding meet-and-greets with fans and posing for photoshoots. This has bolstered her magic, but even in the heat of battle it's sometimes necessary to throw out a pose and catchphrase to fuel her transformation. [Recognition inhibiting field] It's very, very difficult to mentally connect the girl with her magical girl personality. Her real name, age, and many personal details are obscured behind her persona as Magia Prisma. She goes by the alias 'York' when not transformed but still around other superheroes. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 10, 2023 Author Share Posted August 10, 2023 Match 12: Seed 5 Magia Prisma vs Seed 12 Mister Midas The young girl, dressed in pink and frills and what he could only describe as a magic wand, bobbed through the air beside him as he walked down the long hallway, alarms blaring and the whole bunker occasionally shuddering. Heroes and Vanguard agents poured past, Midas giving Fusionette and Faultline a nod as they hustled past. "...You're a little short for a Vanguard operative." The magical girl let out an exasperated sigh. "You know, I get that a lot. Do you have a problem with me being here?" Midas gave it a moment's thought. "A kid probably shouldn't be on the frontline like this." "Well, I am. I choose to be." She turned to face ahead, accelerating slightly. "...Every day in this city, somebody's in danger, no matter what. They might get really hurt, or die. I'm stronger, so if it's between me or an ordinary person being in danger, I choose me. It's simple math." "Guess I can't fault that logic." Midas adjusted his sunglasses, stepping onto the hydraulic platform. "Just stick behind me, then. If it's just simple math, then the sturdiest person here should be the one in danger." "I can take care of myself, you know!" She continued to hover in midair, keeping her spacing from the elevator constant as it began its ride up to the surface. "Geeze. Adults are so useless sometimes. If you're going to let me fight, then let me fight! I don't need a chaperone." "You just want to be treated like an adult, huh?" "Exactly. When you think about it, isn't it ridiculous that we're trusted to risk our lives fighting supervillains, but we can't smoke, drink, or vote?" She pointed a finger at Midas' unlit cigarette accusatorily. Midas quickly weighed the math. Smoking? Very cool. Encouraging kids to smoke? Very uncool. Lying to children? Uncool, but less uncool than the other option. "Smoking's bad and you shouldn't do it." Magia shot him a dubious look as the metal plating split open, the hydraulic lift reaching the surface. The compound was a mess, the turrets having been blown open, Vanguard mecha smashed and leaking acrid smoke, flashing green plasma bolts and the magnetic whine of vanguard railguns filling the air. "Enemy Reinforcements: arrival!" "Dismissive: Only two of them!" As a pair of Rikti conscripts raised their weapons, Magia's wand flashed through the the air. leaving a gleaming trail of light, the two invaders suddenly and violently flung backwards by the burst of sparkling energy. Midas whirled and caught a Headman teleporter by the throat in a glowing fist of force, lifting him off his feet and then slamming him into the ground. A pair of Mentalists advanced, hands raised to their temples, but even the Rikti's potent psionics had nothing on Midas's stubbornness. He formed a blade of his glowing aura, slicing at the rikti's chest and leaving a gaping rent through the armor, odd alien blood flowing before the telepath vanished in a 'pop' of the medical recall teleportation. He turned to target the other one, but Magia had already reached them and flicked her wand upwards, launching the invader high into the air, giving her time to wind up and baseball swing her magical rod into them as they came down, sending them flying into a pair of autonomous drones that exploded into shrapnel as the psychic was smacked through them like a projectile. The rikti buzzed like an insect swarm, taking note of the new defenders. The two heroes were driven back to back, rikti troopers moving to encircle them in a great horde. "...Doesn't look good here." "Nope. Want to rethink letting me take the lead?" "I'm not backing down. If you want me to hang back, fall back, or hold back, you're going to have to make me." Midas dug a lighter out of his pocket and lit his cigarette. He probably could, if he had to. That flare of light and concussive force she'd used with that wand thing was something that his field could absorb all day and all evening, too. But, honestly, win or lose? Getting into a fight with a little girl in pink ribbons wasn't very cool. "Alright, we'll do this your way, kid." "It's Prisma. Magia Prisma." "Hah. Okay. I'm Mister Midas. What's your plan of attack?" She shot him a curious look. "...We need a plan? Just get their attention. If they're fighting us, they're not fighting the Vanguard." "...Y'know what, that's a good plan. It's simple." "Glad you like it. Ready?" The cyborg and the magical girl focused, their golden auras expanding, intensifying into golden coronas, fiery glows of magical and psychic energy. Eerily silent, the rikti descended in a wave of swords and plasma fire, crashing against the Brute and Tanker like surf against a mighty rock, and sent crashing back, sent flying by a flashing magic rod or a gleaming golden fist. "Reinforcements: Required! Enemies: Indestructible!" Magia Prisma V S Mister Midas Not totally indestructible ✔️ Totally Indestructible Probably a Middle Schooler ✔️ That'd be lame. In raw power scale, it's not a contest here, Midas wins. Prisma's got the damage type he's most resistant to and at the range he's comfiest engaging in. However, Midas cares a lot more about being cool than he does about winning, and there's... it's hard to make beating up a schoolgirl look cool. Like the issue with Romulus and Slumberlamb, where neither could see the other and the match should have stalled out because of the zugzwang of neither one wanting to make the first move and reveal themselves, I've basically just called this one as a referee: Midas will forfeit the match, and Prisma will advance to the next round. There may or may not be any updates next week, as I'll be traveling, but I'll be back later this month to introduce Cosmic Cow and match 13 regardless. See you then. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 23, 2023 Author Share Posted August 23, 2023 Spoiler At seed 2, one of my oldest and most favorite characters, we have Helena 'Cosmic Cow' Alanais. The C'ao Empire are generally seen as idiots by the greater galactic community. Violent, potentially dangerous idiots, but still idiots. The C'ao, by contrast, think they're great, and that nobody else is giving them a fair shot. The C'ao empire expands daily. First, a planet is located by the Science Scouts, who will catalogue a planet's natural resources, inhabitants, culture, and technology. Then, the Armada will arrive, and offer the empire the chance to peacefully integrate into their hegemonic dominion. Those that refuse will be forcibly pacified, while willing members will still have the Armada stick around for a brief period of political restructuring, generally the installation of a C'ao planetary governorship. The third wave is engineers and immigrants, who build up C'ao amenities and infrastructure on the planet. Doing this, the Empire gets more citizens, more taxes, and more natural resources, but they also get to integrate new cultures with their own. The new alien citizens bring their own music, books films, cuisine, and more to the empire, which the xenophile C'ao all delight in. 'Mandatory Friendship' might be a way to describe their attitude towards the greater galaxy; which other species might find themselves unable to appreciate when it's enforced at the end of a disintegration rifle, or when the C'ao bring their casual use of anal probes to the planets they inhabit. "Helena Alanai" is the pseudonym chosen by the Third Class Science Scout known in the media as Cosmic Cow. Arriving on earth almost five years ago, the C'ao have gone from being unknown observers to having interwoven their spies and networks of contacts through North America and the Rogue Isles, even using time travel to insert their influence into already-past events. Their infiltrators and collaborators range from those trading favors and gear with the aliens, to true believers in their quest to conquer earth, to probe-addicted hedonists. Though they still are obscure, the C'ao have become known amongst conspiracy theorists, cryptozoologists, appearing in urban legend. Helena finds the earth fascinating. C'ao are a very mystically and genetically stable (Some would say *inert*) species; and mutations, freak scientific accidents, and magic are completely unknown to them. Even cybernetics and bio-augmentation are barely known among the C'ao. So, the powered humans, from the lowliest mutant, to the most powerful Incarnate, are bizarre and mysterious to the bovine aliens. Earth's superhuman protectors (and would-be conquerors) are strong enough to give even the Armada pause! While the headstrong fleet admirals would never admit the possibility that they could *lose* in an invasion-by-force scenario, both sides would receive heavy casualties, damaging the planet and people the C'ao want to fold into their empire. With this in mind, Helena has switched tactics: She is more open about the existence of her crew of Science Scouts and their lair in the asteroid belt, and is disseminating propaganda attempting to sway earthlings to the C'ao cause. While she knows earth will never unilaterally support membership in the Empire, (Troublemakers like Arachnos, the Council, Malta, and many more will never accept them) she hopes that enough major governments will accept their offer to avoid an all-out war between her own people and earth, her new home. Her own shady past of alien abduction and experimentation, of sabotage and espionage, work against her and ger jingoistic, propaganda-laden diplomacy is clumsy. However, her motives are completely honest in wishing to avoid more destruction than is strictly necessary. One way or another, however, earth will submit to the Empire. Like the C'ao probe, you earthlings would probably like it if you would just give it a try! Cosmic Cow is a Technology Blaster with Beam Rifle and Energy Manipulation as her powersets. Her ancillary set is Munitions, with pool power picks in Flight and Medicine. Her notable powers are as follows: [Cosmic Carbine] The shorter version of the larger beam weapon carried by C'ao shock troops, the disintegrator still has plenty of kick. CC normally carries it at a low setting (a painful stun), but cranked up high it will skeletonize an earthling in only a few shots. Helena has modified hers to dispense pacification gas, fire rockets, and fire a freeze ray, along with its normal functions. [Jetpack] C'ao love jetpacks and being able to fly, and find it puzzling that earthlings haven't adopted more heavy use of them. CC is graceful in the air, and often adopts the position of strafing attacks and bombardment from the air, rarely deigning to get down on the same level as her opponents, even if this means occasionally bumping off the ceiling. [Science Scout Uniform] The white and black spotted skintight pressure suit is the uniform of the C'ao Empire's science scouts. Helena wears it with pride. The purple and gold armor plating is 'Moometal', a rarely seen alloy outside the C'ao homeworld in the Hyades cluster. The green glow is the result of another anomalous material; the C'ao were lucky to evolve on a planet with multiple materials that aided the development of their technology. [Bubble Helmet] C'ao can breathe earth atmosphere, but the mix of gasses contains some trace particles that C'ao are allergic to. Many villains have been surprised that shattering the helmet only annoyed CC, rather than leaving her gasping and helpless. [Anal Probe] a medical device capable of analysis that can detect a broad spectrum of medical ailments, as well as treating diseases, poisons, and simple traumatic injury via targeted energy pulses designed to cause rapid cellular regeneration. The probe can also tap into the subject's nervous system to read their mental and emotional state, as well as allowing them to influence their mental state; letting it help calm panicking patients and prevent them from going into shock. It has also had some efficiency in alleviating the symptoms of anxiety, depression, and other such disorders. The nervous-system link also makes being probed an intensely pleasurable, euphoric experience; enough so that C'ao often use the device recreationally. More ominously, rumors persist that the technicians can retrieve specific memories from the subject, or implant subliminal or even overt brainwashing, or that the euphoric pleasure is somehow addictive, turning the probed into obedient servants to the Empire. C'ao are quite proud of their probing tech, and perplexed by why the devices seem to repel humans so thoroughly. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted August 25, 2023 Author Share Posted August 25, 2023 (edited) Match 13: Seed 2 Cosmic Cow vs. Seed 18 RR Hood Red hit the ground at a jog, hitting the pavement and immediately moving to cover, her team fast-roping down from the Arachnos Flyer behind her. The spiders weren't her favorite clients, not because they weren't prompt with payment. They annoyed her in other ways. They were... stingy. Disrespectful. Nitpicky. In this instance, they'd withheld information: What had supposedly been a demonic escape event at the Cap Au Diable geothermal powerplant was, in fact, an attack by an alien invader. So the'd come loaded for demons, and found out too late they were fighting a metahuman and had to quickly swap their equipment loadouts while the Arachnos efficiency experts complained about the delay in moving out. It was probably that sense of annoyance that made her not feel especially bad when a truly titanic beam of energy lanced out from somewhere in the tangle of towers and pylons, punching clean through the mini-flyer and sending it spinning away, the crew bailing out as it smashed into the mountain face and promptly went up in a series of deafening secondary explosions. The gigantic retro-futuristic ray-cannon, bigger than a semi-trailer, perched atop one of the power station's roofs extended several heat-sinks and gushed a burst of steam; cooling down over the massive laser shot; and giving the squad time to advance. As a streak of green and purple shot up into the air, Red turned her advance into a slide, skidding behind a humming transformer. Pulling out her heavy, shielded communicator, she pulled out the antenna with a grunt, speaking into it softly. "Alright, gentlemen. Eyes to the sky, we're fighting a ranged flyer. Spread out and take up concealed fire positions. The intel we have says to expect overwhelming firepower from the air, so I expect we're fighting a standard hover-blaster here." "Keep the primary target's attention while I move up to sap the big gun. We do NOT need that thing firing a second time. Fuchs, Ziege, if you can tag her with a webnade and ground her, make it happen, but don't expose yourself to do it. Are we clear?" She waited for the chorus of 'Affirmative!' over the radio line before concluding with "Okay, move out." and shoving the heavy radio's antenna back into its casing. Helena drifted over the buildings, the towers and silos, letting out a pensive moo as she did so. The test fire of the new Demon Cannon had gone extremely well! She'd been aware of the long cooldown, but the firepower had exceeded expectations! That was all good, and something she'd give high marks in her report; but Arachnos wouldn't have sent just a lone flyer. It would have dumped out a whole squad of Bane Spiders, and maybe a Patron, or a patron's Liutenant at the very least. A C'ao attack on one of their strongholds demanded that much, at the very least! But she couldn't see anything; and that had her very suspicious. Arachnos DID like to outsource their brute labor to villains when they could; so possibly a Stalker, or... A bullet whizzed past her, followed by a hollow boom. That had been a heavy shot, a sniper bulllet or even an anti-material round. She juked to the left, then down, more criss-crossing patterns of fire that made her juke about. She located one of the assailants in a moment, dug in behind cover. She almost felt bad, pulling her Cosmic Carbine to her shoulder and sighting down the holographic crosshairs, but they HAD shot first. THe searing beam of coherent destructive energy lanced out and then expanded into a massive green dome of crackling energy, forcing the soldier who'd been hiding there to drop their weapon and equipment and heedlessly sprint for cover. She wasn't sure if she'd actually got him, but the entire nest of crates that he'd been using to hide behind was now a patch of very scorched earth. She brought up a display from her wrist projector, tapping a few keys, the PA of the power plant crackling to life. "Hello, earthling! It seems you've been hired to stop me! I would please encourage you to reconsider this course of action!" Red paused, mooshing a block of C4 onto one of the sizzling heat-sinks and pressing the wires of a remote signal detonator into the plastic explosive. She'd managed to plant a few blocks of the Serious Putty onto fragile looking energy relays, heat sinks, and control panels, and moved onto a fragile exposed cooling fin, working one-handed as she pulled out her brick of a radio. "Report." "Holz here. Had to fall back, that little gun she's got is like a battleship's cannon." "Boss, this is gonna be less like hide-and-seek and more like whack-a-mole. How much longer do you need?" "Longer. Start hopping between cover, two or three shots and then move. She seems like a talker, though. Let me see if I can get her attention some other way." The codes for accessing the Arachnos systems she'd been given in case an emergency shutdown was needed worked, and she was able to reply using the same PA address system as the cow was using. "This is operative Red Riding Hood of Marchen Security Services. We are under contract with Arachnos to secure this area against a potential demonic incursion event, and to detain the suspected instigator." "Suspected instigator? Are you referring to me?" She let out a cheerful laugh. "Oh, you do not need to worry! C'ao Science is the most advanced in the galaxy! Anomalous energy readings are fully under control!" Red made a face under her gas mask and set another charge. "I'm sure you think you are, but..." "Little mercenary, you are underestimating the power of the C'ao Empire! Please allow me to demonstrate our technological superiority!" The little dot in the sky stopped, surrounded in a greenish glow, and then fired another massive pulse of energy at another part of the facility. Metal rained down, ends gowing and sizzling green as a walkway high above collapsed. Red winced. "You're risking the release of a class six demonic entity! You're putting civilians at risk. For everyone's safety, surrender peacefully NOW before this goes any further!" Helena mooed smugly to herself, tail ficking back and forth contentedly. That was another one down. She held up her carbine, noting that the auto-regenerating energy pack already having the heavy destructive overcharge mostly regenerated. "Oh, are you playing at being the hero today? I thought you were here because Arachnos was giving you a paycheck." Kicking her jetpack into a higher setting, she started to do some strafing runs on likely looking hiding places, sweeping he beam over tangles of pipes, tight corridors, or clusters of crates, leaving sizzling green trails behind as she took to just doing rapid flyovers. "The C'ao are wise, and benevolent. I have the situation fuly under control! If you are so concerned by the threat to civilians, perhaps you shouldn't be working under Arachnos?" Red slammed the last of the C4 into place, just as the huge cannon let out a loud buzzing claxon and pulled its heat sinks back into the main armored shell, taking the explosives with it. Her radio was abuzz with cries from her squad, being forced to hunker down in cover or just flee entirely, but she ignore it. Instead, she unslung her heavy anti-material rifle and took a braced position, waiting until that streak of light came back for another pass, before pulling the trigger. Helena felt the impact hit like a sledgehammer, letting out a startled moo as the shot to the gut sent her spiraling, having to arrest her motion in midair before she crashed. The report from a gun that huge couldn't really be effectively surpressed, and it was easy to track the expanding 'BOOM' back to its source. Helena let out a grumpy huff as she noted the little girl dressed in red retreating around the Demon Cannon. Swooping around, she circled the device until the girl was brought back into view, casually dodging the second shot as she came into view. "...If you were hoping that I would have to hold my fire, I am sorry to say you are completely incorrect! The Demon Cannon Mk I is fully resistant to even my own carbine's fire. Whereas your own primitive earthling kinetic firearm cannot penetrate my spacesuit!" With her radio on her belt, any reply would go unheard, but Red felt some need to respond anyway. Possibly she just wanted to distract herself from how she was about to do something fairly stupid. "It IS kind of bullshit that you're bulletproof, but in this case.... I just wanted you to be hovering right over there." Taking a deep breath and three long steps, she flung herself off the rooftop, pressing the detonator held clenched in her fist as she did so. Helena blinked at the sudden dive for cover. She hadn't even started charging to fire, and just twitched the muzzle of her beam rifle to track the young girl's movement. She had her mouth opened to quip when the Demon Cannon exploded, multiple sapper charges going off at once, mostly from INSIDE the heavy armor plating on the exterior. The huge power coil went off in a secondary explosion, adding unearthly green arcs of disintigrating green lightning to the conventional explosion. The floating rings that made up the barrel of the weapon were suddenly no longer contained in their harnessing field, and subject to physics: With the main body of the gun violently exploding, they became shrapnel, flung into the air and towards Cosmic Cow. She had barely time to register this, and no time to dodge or respond, before one of the huge spinning disks smashed into her helmet and everything went dark. Helena regained consciousness minutes later, blinking. She was flat on her back, pinned under a pile of extraterrestrial debris, her jetpack sputtering and sparking, her Carbine on the floor ahead of her. She reached out for it, but a size ladies small combat boot kicked it away. She looked up, finding herself looking down the barrel of a malta anti-material sniper rifle. "How did... ordinary earthlings...?" "...You C'ao are pretty arrogant, aren't you? Even if you say you care about humans, you don't really think about putting yourself above us; acting as if you know what's best. Standard smug super behavior." Exhaling, Red took a minute to pull her gas-mask down. Shaking off her red hood, she let her blonde twintails pop free. Her fireteam slowly started to regroup around her, returning from being scattered by Cosmic Cow's assault, some injured, all exhausted. "...And for the record? I'm never 'playing at being a hero'. A hero is a figure of hope; they're someone that inspires others." Adjusting her grip on her rifle, she continued. "...Even if I'm fighting monsters and villains, I'm just a hired gun. A specialist, a professional, sure. But not a hero." "..." CC was silent as Red turned to survey the destruction of their fight, musing philosophically. "Well. Maybe, if you can't get a real Hero... a professional is the next best thing." She turned back, eyes falling back to Cosmic Cow, who was making a show of digging a finger around in her ear. "You are very talkative for a little girl! I understand that it is normal for earthling empowered to make a speach upon victory, but I believe that you are being premature! I am not yet defeated." Gathering a corona of green energy around her hands, she grunted, starting to heave the debris off herself. "You are a small earthling brat who is interfering in the important work of her elders and superiors. I shall have to probe some manners into you; a manual attitude recalibration." In response, Red swung her heavy barrel over to the alien invader's chest, aiming at her heart. "Hey, moo-lady. Your bulletproof suit's pretty fancy, do you think it'll stop one of these at point blank range?" She pulled the trigger without waiting for an answer. The debris fell back into place, Helena folding her arms over her chest with an undignified little wail, the slug of depleted uranium falling to the ground with a tinkle, flattened and deformed around the alien's skintight spacesuit. "....ooooOOOOOWWW!!" Helena whined, cutting off into a series of pained moos as she rocked back and forth. Red just stared at her, unsure what to say. After a moment, Holzfaller, their heavy weapons trooper, let out a delicate cough. "...You shot her right in the milk tanks, boss." "I did. Just...eugh. Someone call Marshall Brass and let him know we need a new flyer for prisoner recovery." Cosmic Cow v s RR Hood Deals Energy Damage, resists Smashing, Lethal, Fire, Cold ✔️ Deals Lethal Damage No enhanced perception ✔️ Stealth Hoverblaster Defense Typed Energy Defense One single powerful AOE ✔️ Pet Heavy Self Healing Healing for self and pets No debuff resistance ✔️ Lots of debuffs! CC is one of my favorite characters, one of my FIRST characters when the game was revived as Homecoming. I love her, but she's no longer who I consider my *strongest* character, having built characters after her, I now have seen even more damaging and more survivable characters. RR, who has lots of healing for herself and her pets, Bodyguard, tons of debuffs from Traps, can handle things that would stop CC cold. So as much as I love my dumb space moo, she's out of the tournament, and RR Hood advances another bracket. Edited August 25, 2023 by Crasical Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted September 15, 2023 Author Share Posted September 15, 2023 Spoiler At Seed 7, we have our second Scrapper, Ryoko Kobayashi (Or Kobayashi Ryoko, if you want to go with the proper Japanese name order). Ryoko was 11 years old when Emperor Cole was defeated, when the Hamidon returned to reclaim the territory it had ceded to mankind. Living in Neo-Tokyo, she was far from the epicenter of the atomic blast that destroyed the magisterium, but the ripples of the Emperor's defeat and capture by Vanguard carried across the world, to every self-sustaining city in the greater Praetorian Empire. Ryoko's father, the brilliant Dr. Hiro Kobayashi, had been making preparations from the moment that the story broke over the TPN; preparations to get out of the city, past the sonic fences, away from the deathtrap of infighting that Neo-Tokyo became in the days after Tyrant's Fall. However, the size Devouring Earth's attack exceeded every expectation, every contingency he'd planned on. A kaiju-sized Avatar of Hamidon crushed the family's home; Hiro ending pinned under the rubble, one of his legs crushed and mangled. His wife, Mao, made the harsh decision to cut off the useless limb to free him, then to stay behind and cover his escape with their children, Ryoko and Yuushi. The little cabin outside the city that the family fled too was well camouflaged by surrounding nature, and abundant with field and gardens. Stashed food, water, generators, and medical supplies along with a bare-bones biochemical lab; and clockwork workers to tend the gardens and fields, made their life as comfortable as it could be, under the circumstance. The family grieved and set up a grave for Mao, and tuned in as the transmissions from the city became darker and more grave and urgent, until they one by one winked out and there was nothing. The children heped work the fields during the day while their father worked in his lab on medical inoculations against the Tellurian Plague, or just repairing the clockwork. In the mornings and eveings, he prepared their meals, and homeschooled the two siblings. However, he knew all too well that this was an unstable equilibrium. He hadn't counted on the loss of his wife, of one leg; and the breakdowns and constant maintenance needed to keep the clockwork running to fight off wandering Devouring earth monsters and to tend their fields. They just didn't have enough food; the gardens couldn't sustain enough for three people. The treasured dining room table they all shared became increasingly barren as their supplies became more and more rationed, an attempt to stretch things out just a little longer. Hiro awoke one day to find Ryoko gone, along with the family's heirloom, a katana. In a panic, he pushed himself as hard as he could, limping across the fields, directing the Clockwork in a search pattern. They found her at the most extreme reaches of their farm, barely alive, the katana chipped and dented. A length of rope had been wrapped around a pair of Devouring Earth monsters that she'd killed, slowly and ponderously dragging their looming corpses back to the house. "I wanted to eat mom's cabbage and mushroom stir fry again." was the last thing she said before passing out. EATING one of the Tellurian-infested, mutant plant monsters of the Devouring Earth was ridiculously risky, but the other alternative was slow starvation. While Ryoko rested, Hiro carefully prepared the two monster corpses: Exposing them to extremes of radiation, heat, cold, and chemical treatments. Eventually, he was satisfied that they wouldn't at least, be immediately fatal to ingest. With masses of mutant Napa cabbage and shitake mushroom, the dinner table was overflowing: Stir fry, cabbage rolls, mushroom pasta. The dinner table was more lively than it had been in weeks. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years. Ryoko became a splendid hunter, roaming further afield to find and defeat specific ingredients that she would bring back to the house as food supplies, not merely vegetables, but monstrous infected fish, crabs, lobsters, even chickens and beef. She had no formal sword training, merely unnaturally keen reflexes and an atavistic predatory sense that allowed her to submerge her higher thinking during combat, and act purely on instinct and reflexes. Ryoko grew up, though she kept wearing her old school uniform out of habit; having only a small selection of other clothes to wear. She internalized the rules of the natural world; the struggle between predator and prey. One would live, the other would die, and only the strong got to eat in the end. Perhaps it was this return to savage nature; humanity no longer placing themselves above the wilderness but immersing themselves in it, that pleased the Hamidon enough to spare the little farmstead from annihilation, or perhaps it was simply too small to bother with. Either way, the farm flourished, the huntress honed her skills, and it was a long time before they saw another human face. Ryoko met them during a scavenging and hunting trip to the ruins of Neo-Tokyo. Invaders from another world, they were of the 'primal earth' that had lead to the fall of praetoria, had defeated their once-emperor. They called themselves 'Arachnos', and they had come to pilfer technology from the ruins of Praetoria. Moreover, they offered to take the girl back with them; to a world not yet destroyed by Hamidon, a place where her family could be safe, and happy. Though suspicious, she brought them back to her home, and they negotiated with her father. Hiro accepted their bargain: There was no real future for his children on Praetoria. The Arachnos soldiers escorted them back to a portal they had opened, and from there, back to Grandville. Weeks of debriefings, poking and prodding from scientists followed. The spiders wanted to know everything that had happened, a comprehensive report on how they'd survived in the wilderness. They responded with disbelief at the answers, that they had *eaten* devouring earth monsters, that one girl with a sword who was barely into her teenage years had protected them. Eventually, once all usable information was extracted, the family was dumped into the Gutter. The family found a home, Dr. Kobayashi set up a clinic for the poor citizens who couldn't afford medical care otherwise, and Ryoko learned how to fight Arachnoids to keep them from eating people in her neighborhood. Going from the destroyed Neo Tokyo to the Social Darwinism of the Rogue Isles has done very little to disabuse Ryoko of a very primitive view of the world. Society, she reasons, is essentially fake: seeing Praetoria crumble around her in just a few days has made her believe that personal physical power is the only thing one can depend on, and anything you cannot physically protect can be taken away from you by someone stronger; be that a powerful individual or an organization. Ryoko has thus decided that her sword extends only as far as protecting the family's dinner table. Her father, her brother, her home; these are the most important things in her life; and she is remorseless in defending them from Arachnos brutality, arachnoid monsters, and supervillain interference directed at the clinic by way of Mr. Phipps' haven house. Ryoko Kobayashi is a Natural Scrapper with Katana and Ninjutsu as her primary powersets. Her ancillary set is Weapon Mastery, with pool power picks in Speed. Her notable powers are as follows: [Beast's Fang] Ryoko uses a variety of katanas. None of them are monomolecular, or haunted, or cursed, or divine god-killing weapons. They are simply tools, a sharpened bit of curved metal. They are, all of them, Ryoko's claws and fangs, the tools with which she brings down prey. [Shurikenjutsu] Ryoko carries shuriken, throwing knives, kunai, and various other throwing blades on her person, concealed in her clothes. She's quite a bit heavier than she looks because of this; she's carrying enough that she's confident she won't run out in a prolonged engagement, she doesn't have any way to manifest new ones or retrieve any used in a fight aside from manually going to pick them all back up. [Rules of Nature] Ryoko has no formal combat training, merely her own instincts as a hunter. Still, desperation has forced her to push past her own limitations time and time again, and she treats every fight as a deadly serious engagement. [Appetite] Years of eating Tellurian and later Will of the Earth infested food has not been entirely without side effects. Ryoko can metabolize food and drink extremely quickly, so it's not entirely uncommon to see her eat a riceball in one bite mid-fight to heal up a wound she's taken. In general, she eats way more than a girl of her age and size should. [Dine & Dash World Champion] Ryoko is extremely infamous in restaurants in both the Rogue Isles and Paragon City for eating a huge, expensive meal, and then taking off without paying. She has both stealth and very high speed and leaping height, making her very capable of disengaging from fights she doesn't want to be in. SPECIAL SUPPLEMENTARY NOTE: So, some of my characters are more or less heavily inspired by certain specific things; RR Hood is heavily inspired by Darkstalkers character BB Hood, for example, and the Cursed Gold Idol is actually an old World of Darkness character of mine. Ryoko actually gets an explicit call out because she's *heavily* inspired by the main character of a manga called 'RYOKO' (All caps necessary). Without getting too deep into spoiler territory, the story ends on a kind of abrupt, downer note, with the implication that the main cast all die. I suspect that either the author got tired of writing the manga or their publisher told them to wrap it up and end the story. I had really enjoyed the manga, so I kind of stole the character, changed her backstory some, and transplanted her into the City of Heroes universe to have a slightly happier ending. As an aside, Ryoko's family is full of puns. Her father is Hiro, which is a homonym to the english word 'Hero'. Her mother was Mao, a homonym to Maou, or 'Demon King'. Her little brother is Yuushi, a syllable off Yuusha, a japanese term for hero/warrior, and Ryoko is one off from Ryu-ko, or 'Dragon Girl'.... which is actually how I originally misspelled her name when I first made the character. Thank goodness for infinite rename tokens. Also, wow, it's been weeks since I last posted. Sorry! I'll try and keep things more consistent from here out. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted September 22, 2023 Author Share Posted September 22, 2023 Match 14: Seed 7 Ryoko Kobayashi vs. Seed 10 Mushroom Witch The shimmering lake that had made Salamanca such a promising tourist destination in the past had turned into a glowing mirror in the setting sun. Joyce adjusted her broad-brimmed witch's hat, one arm wrapped around a paper bag of groceries, the other gripping the broom she was sitting on side-saddle. She slowly descended to one of Croatoa's many secret caves, leaning her broom against the doorframe as she headed inside, humming to herself. "Sisters, I've got the ingre-" She cut off suddenly, standing there in shock. Scattered around the large cavern, Her coven members were sprawled out, unconscious, their black robes shredded by some huge blade.The only one still clinging to consciousness was their sometimes-ally Anna, the white-haired sheep-horned woman groaning, a huge bump on her head and her spandex costume shredded to the point that both the Controller's hands were occupied preserving her own decency. "...She... She came out of nowhere... she's so *fast*..." Anna managed to bleat out, before closing her eyes and fading from view. Joyce felt the invisible sheep-woman brush past her, fleeing the cavern, but panic had given way to anger, and Joyce rushed forward heedlessly, trying to find the intruder before she hurt anyone else. A redcap? one of their Tuatha de Danaan slaves? A random villain, a misguided hero? Who would attack them like this? Ryoko looked up from her project as another witch came rushing in. She thought she'd subdued everyone in these caves! The new arrival skidded to a stop, seeming to be unsure what to make of the situation. Ryoko did have to admit it was an odd situation: the giant cauldron of soup the witches had been boiling away at for a communal dinner was now getting siphoned into a series of jerrycans with a length of extra-thick hosepipe. She gave the hose a gentle jiggle to avoid any clogging on extra-chunky ingredients, then rose, attempting an intimidating martial arts stance. "Stand back! This soup's mine now! Just walk away and nobody has to get hurt!" Outside, a furred Tuatha strained, slowly pushing up one of the large runestones. Making it stick upright in the soft sand by the lakeshore was a chore, and the Fir Bolg often would topple and deface the stones in their endless resistance. It stepped back to admire its work, then let out a chuffing groan as the stone slipped in the soft sandy soil and tipped over backwards. With a grunt, the Tuatha sat down on the fallen stone, picking at its teeth with one clawed hand as it caught its breath for a moment. Because of this, it had a perfect view as the door to the caverns busted open, a cartoon dustball of violence launching out and rolling up and down the lake shore before separating into two battered fighters. "Huuuh....huuuh... Not bad, for a *soup thief*." Joyce managed to pack more disdain into the last two words than should reasonably have fit there. Thrusting out a hand, the pile of splintered wood that had once been the door to the cave rattled, her broom erupting from the pile and flying to her hand. She twirled it nimbly between her fingers. "Unfortunately for you, I'm done fighting with my bare hands. It's time to get serious." "Funny!" Ryoko reached down, slowly and menacingly unsheathing her katana. "I'm a weapon user, too." Something about the other girl had gotten her hackles up. They were both stealthy close range fighters, both girls displaced across space and time from their homes, strangers in a strange land. And for some reason, all those similarities just contributed to an *instinctual dislike* of the little witch! The scrapper and stalker rushed forward to clash weapons, the first few strikes feeling each other out, whirling defenses of spinning wood and flickering steel, probing thrusts and swipes. Ryoko went on the offensive first, a powerful slice starting low and snapping upward. Joyce blocked not with her staff but with a small potion vial, the cork forced out as it erupted into a huge ball of mushrooms, Joyce entombed in the center. The spongey fungus gripped and tangled Ryoko's blade, blunting the strike and momentarily making it stick, long enough for Joyce to wind up a powerful thrust, dislodging the other girl's weapon and sending both it and her flying back onto her back. Ryoko rolled up in an ukemi, eyes narrowed, and then rushed in again. Her sword lashed out left to right, then back again in a spinning 360 degree attack, before she sprung into the air and came down like a meteor, a huge cleaving strike. Joyce kept her staff moving, using its reach to push Ryoko out, abusing her long weapon to keep the other girl out of the range where her curved sword could be effective, but that sudden leap was too unexpected, coming down and forcing her to abort to a full defense against the helm-splitting strike, her staff held up over her head like an iron bar to deflect the blow. The two fighters separated after the clash, only to rush in again. Defense was abandoned as the sudden intensity of the skirmish built, clouds of spores building up as the bristled end of the broom struck at Ryoko with the weight of a sledgehammer, flashing steel leaving shallow bleeding cuts and shredded clothing in their wake. The exchange of blows came faster, more and more vicious, the two combatants shouting wordless defiance until the melee suddenly broke, the two skidding away on the sandy shore, water lapping at their heels. Ryoko and Joyce stared each other down. Joyce drew out a potion, Ryoko a riceball. The potion was quaffed in just a few gulps, the riceball eaten in two quick bites. Bleeding cuts sealed up, bruises faded, the combatants abnormal physiology giving them lightning fast recovery. "Kind of looks like we're going to be at this for a while." Ryoko noted. Joyce paused, holding her broom at arms length, considering. "..You're right. So..." She settled onto the broom, rising into the air as she drew out some potions. "I'll just fight from up here for a bit." Ryoko dodged as the first vial landed where she'd been moments before, exploding into a brown-black cloud of spores. "Whoah! Hey, get down here!" "Fufufu! Looks like I was right. You can't fly, can you? So just get picked apart while I stay out of reach. I bet you'll run out of stamina before I run out of potions." Ryoko backdodged the next exploding vial, then sidestepped the third. With a spinning flourish she put her katana away, but any victory on Joyce's part was short lived: Fingers slipped into the pleats of her skirts, coming out with shuriken, kunai, and throwing knives, the metal blades starting to fly as Joyce was forced to take evasive maneuvers. "Just because I can't reach you with my sword doesn't mean that I'm out of options! Take this and this and THIS!" The Tuatha laborer sucked a finger, watching the increasingly large cloud of fungal gas and the hail of wildly thrown blades, the exchange showing no signs of ceasing. Just how many bombs and knives could one person carry, anyway? It seemed nonsensical. With a heaving grunt, the Tuatha rose, getting a grip on the huge stone slab and starting to lever it back upright. Once it was in position, he spent some time rocking it back and forth, trying to grind it down into the soft earth, to properly anchor it this time. It seemed to be working fairly well, and it stepped back to examine its handiwork, chuffing agreeably at the results. Nodding, it turned back to watch the continued brawl. Both combatants seemed to have mostly expended their ranged projectiles, with Ryoko looking the worse for wear after the exchange. Dodging a shuriken, Joyce rushed down, transitioning from sitting on her broom to use it as a staff, her strike aiming at a fungal build-up that the bombs had built up, a smudgy blackness on the skin. "This'll end it!" With a touch from her broom, it exploded into vitality-sapping mushrooms, roots digging into Ryoko's arm and sucking away at her strength, her eyes wide in shock at the sudden assassin's strike. Off balance, she couldn't defend against the followup swing, a pancake flip that launched her into the air. Joyce zipped upwards, swinging the staff overhand in two hands to intercept the knocked-up scrapper and send her crashing back down to earth. Joyce slowly drifted to the ground, holding her weapon up and ready, but Ryoko didn't move to rise from the shallow crater she'd smashed into the ground. "...Had enough, soup-thief?" She inquired, slowly approaching. Ryoko hadn't managed to draw her sword before her surprise rush-down, and was laying on her stomach, head resting on her arms, facing away from Joyce. She gave the other girl a prod in the ribs with her broom. "..." Joyce could see that her jaw was working, but couldn't hear anything. "...Whatever you've got to say, save it for the police." She used her staff to lever the rogue over onto her back. Ryoko finished chewing and swallowed. The sprouting mushrooms had stolen her vitality. The obvious solution to get the vitality back was to just eat the mushrooms. They'd tasted *bad*, a mushroom that no amount of butter or seasoning could fix, but they'd restored feeling to her numbed limbs. And it seemed the witch hadn't expected anyone to just *eat* her poison mushrooms. The draw-cut, Iaijutsu, was the method of drawing a katana and attacking in a single smooth motion. Her opponent already had her weapon out and ready, and she was laying prone. It was only having surprise and the sudden rush of fungus-fueled energy that let her pull it off, but she rolled backwards into a crouch, then lunged forward, so quickly she seemed to Joyce to just pass *through* her, vanishing and appearing behind her. She felt the shock of the sword striking her weapon, curiously soft. Ryoko quietly slid her katana back into its sheathe. Joyce, before she could turn around and chastise her opponent for acting like she'd already won, felt her beloved broom snap apart into three pieces, cut apart not just once but *twice*. With a ripping fabric noise her dress suddenly collapsed into so many scraps, the bottles and potions she concealed inside it going spilling across the ground. Joyce let out a strangled 'yeep' and covered herself, sputtering and reddening. "W-what?! How... How dare you!? How-" "You kept pulling potion bottles out, and while you kept healing yourself, I figured the potions wouldn't fix your clothes." Ryoko tilted her head, quizzical. The other girl was acting *really scandalized* considering that the bloomers and camisole she wore as underclothes were modest enough to barely merit comment by modern standards. "...Anyway, your weapon's broken, and your potions are all on the ground, so I win. I'll be taking your soup." "Seriously? This can't really all have been about *soup*." "Mmhmm." "...That's it? You're just taking our dinner? Not stealing magic items? Not going to torture or kill anyone?" "Nope." "...*Why*?" "It smelled good, so I decided to take it. That's all. I don't kill things that I don't intend to eat. I just fight to eat, and to feed my family." "..." "The strong prey on the weak. That's just the way the world works." She turned, starting to make her way back to the cave. "...You're pretty strong, actually. I won this time, but I don't think I'll hunt in this area anymore." Joyce huffed. She crouched down, starting to gather up her spilled bottles in her witch hat, which had miraculously survived the brawl entirely undamaged. "...Your philosophy is really messed up..." Ryoko Kobayash v s Mushroom Witch Deals Lethal Damage ✔️ Deals Smashing Damage, Resists Lethal damage Stealth, Enhanced Perception ✔️ Stealth, No enhanced Perception Capped defenses (Positional) ✔️ High Defenses (Typed) Powerful Self Heals ✔️ Extreme self-heals and Absorbs Mushroom Eater ✔️ Oh no! Scrappers are fun. Stalkers are fun. Both of these characters have dodges and self heals. Ryoko has enhanced perception, Mushroom Witch has resistances. The witch has the better heals, Ryoko has the better defenses. They both have decent ranged capability. They're very similar! The ending nod is just to a conceptual weakness: The monstrous mushroom eating girl has the advantage. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted September 26, 2023 Author Share Posted September 26, 2023 Spoiler At Seed 3, we have Victor Matheson, the Arachnos archaeologist, also known as Tomb Spider. Victor Matheson, the Tomb Spider, has left his past as buried as the ruins he explores. The name he uses may be an alias; there are no records of his birth, childhood, or schooling. Certainly, though he is a thug, criminal, and thief, he seems to have a very solid grounding in archaology, history, and mythology, an expert in the mythic pre-historic epoch of gods. His specialies include the ancient spirits of africa and their ascension to diety-hood, the Banished Pantheon forced into the spirit world, the invention of magic, and the rise of the Mu and Oranbegan civilizations, Hequat, Ermeeth, and Tielekku. While it's unclear where in the world he came from, Victor has been a globe-trotting adventurer for years, and seems to not discriminate between liberating relics from ancient ruins and tombs and disappearing them from museums into the hands of private collectors. Driven by money and fame, Victor operated in Mexico, India, Egypt, Arabia, China, and Greece, unearthing more and more fantastical treasures with every expedition, including lost, cursed, and potent magical artifacts. His success was enough that he drew the attention of Arachnos, who approached the mercenary archaeologist with the intent to lure him to the Rogue Isles, and set him to work excavating ancient Mu dig sites. Though Victor only has the barest traces of Mu blood, it was enough to get the organization of mystics to begrudgingly assist him in locating and retrieving their ancient treasures. Though considered aloof and insubordinate by many of Arachnos' soldiers, Tomb Spider, as he had been codenamed, was an asset to the organization. While he only ever saw his employment as a business contract and never displayed any of the zealous loyalty to the organization that was expected of him; he helped secure many ritual sites, recover magical foci, and neutralize magical threats from the Circle of Thorns for the Mu mystics. His relationship with his Arachnos allies changed with the discovery of the Halberd of Hequat. The Mu superweapon, a double-ended axe-hammer polearm, was host to a dizzying set of enchantments: Invulnerability, Invisibility, Super-strength, and the ability to fire bolts of poisonous lightning. Anyone bearing the weapon became a dangerously potent warrior; and Tomb Spider, rather than handing it over to his Mu allies, kept it for himself. Claiming the smallest dregs of Mu blood qualified him to inherit the artifact (And that the Mu mystics themselves would have no use for it, as their ritually bound hands couldn't even HOLD the weapon, much less swing it). The scuffle that resulted required an Arbiter to intervene and settle matters, Victor would be allowed to keep the weapon as long as he was in Arachnos employ, for however long as that was. While the unspoken notion that this simply was putting off the point when Victor would inevitably abscond with the weapon and Arachnos would be forced to hunt him down, it was enough to settle things in the moment and prevent further bloodshed. With his personal power much increased, Victor has settled into a fairly relaxed attitude towards his duties: He provides a steady stream of liberated artifacts, primarily sourced from Primeva's oranbegan ruins, but requests for his assistance in operations tend to be lost or misplaced if they come from anyone with less authority than an Arbiter. An untrusted asset, Victor continues to focus on his own goals, as he always has, the pursuit of fortune and glory. Simply addicted to the power the Halberd gives him, he has no intention of parting with it, but he's content to operate under Arachnos' organizational umbrella for now. As for what the future holds, that remains to be seen. Tomb Spider is a Magic Arachnos Soldier in the Bane Spider branch. His ancillary pool is Mace Mastery, and he has no pool power picks. His notable powers are: [Halberd of Hequat] The mu superweapon and the source of a great deal of Tomb Spider's power. [HoH: Might] Wielding the halberd has made Tomb Spider both incredibly strong and incredibly durable, easily able to stand toe to toe with armored troops, metahumans, and super-serum enhanced soldiers. [HoH: Invisibilty] Not perfectly invisible as a Stalker would be, the hammer also lets Tomb Spider cloak himself and move about both quickly and unseen [HoH: Lightning] The crimson lightning of the mu, tinted green with the poison that his bolts of energy carry. Both single beams and explosive blasts can be launched from the spear-tip of the Halberd. [Fortune and Glory] A 'power' that Tomb Spider had long before obtaining the halberd, his spit-in-the-eye-of-destiny attitude and natural good luck leave attacks barely grazing him. While he might be injured, that last fatal bullet never seems to come, leading to desperate scrapes and narrow escapes. [Flying Carpet] Another of the magical artifacts that Tomb Spider has opted to keep rather than sell. Getting around in the Rogue Isles, especially Grandville, without flight can be an exercise in frustration. [Scrying Stone] A small shard of stone polished to mirror sheen. Using it, he can divine an opponent's weak points. [Arachnos Clearance] Tomb Spider has clearance to summon assistance in the form of several Arachnobots, who do not find it objectional to work with the untrustworthy agent the way human troopers would. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted September 28, 2023 Author Share Posted September 28, 2023 Match 15: Seed 3 Tomb Spider vs. Seed 19 Cursed Gold Idol The crackling, crimson lightning of the Mu ignited the dry, leathery skin of the walking dead, turning them into blazing torches. The light of their immolation cast dancing shadows on the ancient crypt, Tomb Spider advancing with the Halberd of Hequat held high, grip smoothly sliding along the haft in an overhead, wood-chopping swing that smashed the floating mask and its attendant malicious spirit to splinters. The shaman, an overweight man in glasses who looked like a high-school principle, looked ridiculous dressed in the beads and furs and bodypaint of the Banished Pantheon. The Shaman started to speak. An incantation, or a plea for mercy, or a vicious taunt in the name of Lughebu, his god. Victor didn't wait for him to finish. He lashed out, remorseless, snapping the shaman's neck with a single hammer blow to the side of the head. For all the man looked like a hapless fool, by the time you were commanding the throngs of the living dead, you were deep enough into the service of the dark gods to have done some reprehensible, unforgivable things. Not that it had mattered. He'd killed men who were far more blameless than the wanna-be pawn of the dark forces he left behind him as he advanced into the ancient temple complex. He traced gloved fingertips over the crumbling stone. A temple to Ermeeth? Definitely Oranbegan make, at least. He dragged the radio out of his belt, pressing the button on the side. Hold, tap tap. Tap, hold. Tap tap tap. 'Deploy Arachnobot Support'. He heard the skittering of metal claws on stone long before he saw them. He'd outfitted Fortune and Glory, his personal arachnobots, with a pair of headlamps, giving him more light to work with now that the burning zombies were behind him. Several spiked pits, a dart trap, and a rolling boulder later, he entered the center chamber of the temple. The dias had been desecrated, the once magnificent statue of Ermeeth worn away to the point that it was essentially featureless, and dwarfed by the huge wooden Totem, crackling with green fire, that lurked nearby. That was all more or less expected, what was LESS expected was the young girl sitting on the cracked altar, swinging her bare feet as she nibbled on a choclate bar. Red markings, like tattoos, ran all over her body, in barbed and swirling tribal patterns, and her hair was a supernatural white. The mysterious child raised a hand and mutely waved at him, but otherwise was engrossed in the candy. Wordlessly, his eyes slid to the Totem, as if demanding an explanation. "Fool... Interloper... Though you have come seeking the Idol of Xipe Totec, you will find only your death! Our new toy, this wayward spirit, will send your soul screaming to Lughebu-" "...You're noisy." The girl suddenly spoke up. Her free hand, that she'd used to wave, lifted, palm forward, and gathered in light, an orb of fire the size of a golf ball, then a softball, then a basketball, expanding to the size of a exercise ball. The fireball, the golden spark of fusion, a miniature sun, rushed forward and blew the Totem to kindling in an instant, the shreds of the exploding wooden construct pattering down, burning. "..And I'm neither your toy nor a spirit. I am a God." She turned her gaze back to Tomb Spider, who took an involuntary step backward. "...Who *are* you?" "I am Xipe Totec, Red Tezcatlipoca, Lord of the East. God of-" "Goldsmiths, corn, and the cycle of death and rebirth." He finished for her. "You know of me. Good. What is it you desire, supplicant?" "...I am not here to pray. Spirit, Idol, whatever you are. I'm here for you." With a wave of his hands, he sent the two arachnobots scuttling forward, web spinners set to capture mode. He unslung his halberd, advancing behind them. The robots pounced on the small child, entangling her in sticky webbing, cocooning her from the shoulders down in just a few moments. She seemed unperturbed, staring up at him; her shining eyes not reflecting any recognizable human emotion. "I told you. I'm not a spirit. I am a god." It was half his minimal magical aptitude allowing Victor to recognize a massive magical working, siphoning away his life and vitality, and half pure instinct and reflexes. He dove backwards as the Idol sucked in his energy, his potential, a violent life-devouring curse that pulled everything he was in and converted it into nuclear fire. His arachnobots were caught in the spell too, something of their power torn away and used to fuel the massive atomic pyre that erupted, consuming them both in seconds. Where the girl had been bound a massive golden statue kneeled, slowly rising to its full, towering height as the light and heat of the blast died away. Tomb Spider ran. He had no interest in playing chicken with the magical golem and seeing who's luck ran out first, not with it having supercharged itself. Instead, he drew the shadows around him, the halberd turning him into a flickering shape in the darkness. Down the hallways he'd so patiently cleared of traps and snares, blessing his foresight to ensure he had a clean escape route. Behind him, the idol pursued. Laser beam eyes scorched marks into the walls, sending molten rock pouring down like candle wax or splashing up like a volcanic geyser as solar spheres cracked into the stonework. As he ran, he pointed his halberds at some of the jams and bypasses he'd used to get past the traps, zapping them with lightning to re-arm the ancient mechanisms. The dart traps just bounced off the idol's golden skin, but the pit traps made the Aztec god stagger and slow, enough for him to gain some distance. Enough for him to reach a fork in the path, and choose the 'wrong' direction, slamming his foot down on a stiff stone pressure plate and then dive for safety into a small alcove. The grinding of old supports being pulled away to release the huge stone slab rumbled and shook the entire temple as the Idol, eyes blazing, turned the corner, only to be nearly flattened under a multi-ton block of stone. forced to kneel, its arms quavering under the weight of the trap. More atomic fire swirled around it, lancing up into the crushing trap, and molten cracks started to appear, the huge stone starting to melt, vaporize, and crumble, until the idol could heave itself to its feet, the hot stone dripping over it as it surveyed the surroundings, spotting the alcove. It could see the distinct outline of Tomb Spider's wide brimmed hat peeking out from the small indentation. "I am a god who loves humanity. However, you, who will not worship, who do not accept my blessing, and yet seek my power regardless. You will be destroyed, sacrificed. Your blood and heart-" The idol cut off, suddenly. It had reached the alcove but found it to be empty, the hat having been carefully balanced on a small piton stuck onto the wall. Tomb Spider emerged from his invisible cloak to strike before the Idol could turn. He couldn't wait for that stolen energy to dissipate, this needed to end in only a few strikes. HIs first was a wide, baseball swing, sending the idol sprawling to the ground. The second was an overhead chop, bashing it and rending the soft metal of its body, and the final swing was a huge and shattering blow, driving the idol to the ground. Panting, Tomb Spider watched as the gold body melted away, leaving behind the girl he'd seen before. Reaching down, he checked her pulse: Still alive, but unconscious. With a groan, he picked her up by the back of the neck like a kitten and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "The things I do for a paycheck... you're lucky M.A.G.I. was the highest bidder today, kid." Tomb Spider v s Cursed Gold Idol Deals Smashing, Energy, and Toxic Damage. Some energy resistance ✔️ Deals Energy damage. Heavily resists Smashing damage, some toxic resistance, no energy resistance. Stealth ✔️ No Enhanced Perception High Defense High Defense No sustain abilities ✔️ Spammable self heal and end restoration. Multiple summoned pets ✔️ Fulcrum shift and heavy AOE Innate mez resistance Strong Stun effects Treasure Specialist ✔️ Is a Treasure The tomb raider and treasure hunter has the kind of experience you need to deal with these sort of things. Also, I'm really excited, someone actually PM'd me in game and told me they were a fan of this whole tournament. Extremely cool. The next match, Peyote Patrol vs. Sable Tentacle, will finish up the second bracket of 8 and bring us into the final third of the tournament, with the quarterfinals, semifinals, bronze match and then our final match for the prestige of tournament champion. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 3, 2023 Author Share Posted October 3, 2023 Spoiler At seed 6, we have our second Brute and our final character for the tournament: The Pure Praetorian, Peyote Patrol. Elena Flores predates the Praetorian Empire by ten years. Young enough to have seen countless soldiers go to war against the Devouring Earth, and never return, or worse, return only to die of their wounds or the virulent tellurian plague. She remembers watching Chairman Cole doing battle with the city-sized Hamidon in Mexico, and his victory over the giant monster. The formation of the empire, The era of relative peace and reconstruction that followed. It felt like the tide was turning, the Devouring Earth beaten back. Even the disaster that destroyed First Ward seemed only to be a misstep on the road forwards. For someone who's earliest memories were of the Hamidon Wars, Praetoria City was a dream. Elena had her needs catered to, food, water, shelter, and even education: Remembering the horrors of war, and those bodies being shipped back from the front line, she entered a career in medicine. A registered nurse, she wanted to heal the sick and injured, to ease the pain of those around her now that she was no longer so young and helpless. Her mutant expression came late in her life, in her early 30s rather than at puberty. Commensurately, it was an intense, violent expression, the kind that twisted the body into an entirely new configuration. For Elena, it was agonizing, the transformation taking days and leaving her immobile for the duration. Her bones shifted, her skin hardened. She took on the characteristics of a plant: regenerative, green-skinned, her flesh dense and filled with sappy green fluids. Huge thorns thrust out of her skin, filled with a numbing poison. Her photosynthetic body could absorb enough solar energy to not only make eating obsolete, but to create a glowing shield of heat and light around her, a corona of flame. Elena's career, her life in praetoria, ended with her mutant expression. Not only did her dangerous auras make simply being near other humans an unnecessary hazard, her appearance as a plant-human hybrid evoked the monsters of the Devouring Earth. She couldn't get close to anyone, and nobody *wanted* to get close to her. Of course, a career in medicine was no longer an option, even without factoring in the laws of Praetoria: Mandatory service in Powers Division for anyone with mutant abilities. In one fell swoop, Elena became 'Peyote', a Powers Division operative. Peyote's career was adequate but not exemplary. She hadn't exactly asked for the position, and despite goading she never attempted to become part of Praetor White's Top Dogs. She did what was asked and little more, her lack of ambition combined with poor 'marketability' due to the nature of her mutation leaving her to work mostly in low-profile jobs, often relegated to patrolling the tunnels below Praetoria. For a period of several years, she bounced between her job, her home, to soak up sunlight in quiet isolation, and Studio 55, where she honed her skills as a barfly, drinking heavily to somewhat dull the pain of her own powers, the dull ache of generating the large thorns that she used to fight. Her lack of public visibility may have been what caused Provost Marchand to select her as an infiltrator to Primal Earth. The presumption that her absence wouldn't be noted, and the fact that she had proven her loyalty with years of service, undistinguished as it was. Whatever the reason, the order was given, and Peyote reacted in abject panic. War? Praetoria was going to war, again? The scars of the Hamidon Wars had hardly healed. Would she, too, become one of the next generation of faceless casualties, that endless parade of dead and dying she'd witnessed as a child? Trauma, or perhaps cowardice, overwhelmed her. She could have tried to warn the people of primal earth, or turned to the Resistance, or brought up her protests to Praetor White, or even, perhaps, the Emperor herself. She could have refused the assignment and bore with whatever re-education Mother deigned she required. Instead, she fled. Studio 55, her favorite drinking spot, had a portal, for those that knew where to find it, a portal to an interdimensional safe space known as Pocket D. She entered the club to bargain with DJ Zero for asylum. For whatever reason, the cosmic entity granted her request: His policy of neutrality didn't extend to forcing her to leave the nightclub to whatever fate awaited her back home. In exchange for favors for the transdimensional demigod, he gave her access to some of the backrooms and sublevels of the building: a place to build herself a place to sleep, eat, and shower. Even to this very day, Peyote Patrol remains in Pocket D. She heard news, gossip, among the superpowered patrons: Emperor Cole, Tyrant, defeated. The Devouring Earth had reclaimed praetoria, destroying much of it. Last Bastion, the last portal to Praetoria, had been defended, but the planet was evacuated, the bones of her world now picked over by technological scavengers. The slow, awkward, painful integration into primal society of the refugees, with lingering tension among the loyalists and the former resistance. Peyote has convinced herself that she cannot move on to Primal Earth; her cowardice and betrayal would be something that neither her former allies nor enemies could tolerate; her refusal to stand with either side then now meaning she has no friends in the present, no way to make her life in that world. Instead, she does odd jobs for DJ Zero, she plays the simulator game for prizes and trades those with heroes for information and trinkets from outside the club. And she bartends, having gotten fairly good at it with years of practice since the Praetorian War came to a close. Peyote, the great praetorian traitor, endures. Peyote Patrols is a Mutation Brute with Spines and Fiery Aura as her powersets. Her ancillary pool is Energy Mastery, with pool picks in Speed and Leaping. Her notable powers are as follows: [Cactus Biology: Thorns] Peyote can grow and regenerate long, thin spines filled with a numbing chemical toxin. They replenish themselves quickly and thus she often breaks them off inside enemies. Growing them is uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and has inspired her self-medication with drugs and alchohol. [Cactus Biology: Solar Absorption] Peyote appears to be capable of generating shields of flame: In actuality, she is simply releasing banked up sunlight. The aura of heat and light is intense enough to act as both a weapon and a shield. [Cactus Biology: Regeneration] Peyote can rapidly restore damaged tissue via wild regrowth. Even if fully defeated, releasing a surge of solar energy can allow her to return to battle. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 5, 2023 Author Share Posted October 5, 2023 Match 16: Seed 6 Peyote Patrol vs. Seed 22 Sable Tentacle "Hey. Y'know. Hey." Peyote barely gave the cyborg slumped over the bartop as he pried his cheek up off the slightly-sticky wood, instead continuing to polish one of the glasses. "Hey. Hey. Bartender. Hey. I bet I could beat you in a fight." "...That's a weird thing to say to someone out of nowhere." Sable gave her a broad grin. "It's true, though." Peyote plonked a bottle of beer down in front of him, taking his empty away. "Alright, I'll humor you. Why do you think that?" Popping the cap off with a metal thumb, Sable drank greedily before setting the bottle down on the bartop. "First. You're all spikey and fiery." Peyote didn't bother questioning how he knew that, she'd demonstrated her mutations a few times in the bar. Voluntarily or involuntarily, the bartender erupting into flames probably was memorable enough that word got around. "...And I'm pretty spike-proof. So it's just the fire-" "And the poison." "Huh?" "Poison. My spines are poisonous.' "Okay, but, like, *Barely*." She raised an eyebrow at his dismissive stance. "And, more importantly, I think your fire shields won't really protect you that well from my dimensional blasts." "It's more like sunlight-" "FIRE SHIELDS." " Peyote rolled her eyes. "Alright, smart guy, so you might have a damage type advantage." "Yeah, but it's more than that." "Oh?" "Stealth." "...Stealth." "Yeah, I can fade out of dimensions-" Peyote shook her head. "Nope." She tapped the brim of her hat. "Secondary mutations, heightened perception and broad vision spectrum." She pointed a clawed finger at him. "Which also means that your master-of-darkness stick of blinding people so they can't hit anything? Not gonna be effective on me." "...I mean, it's a LOT of darkness, it'd still be kinda effective..." "Look, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt about the poison, you give me the darkness immunity. Fair?" "...Fine." "So, we're one-to-one." "I count it as one-zero. You being able to see through my dimensional miasma just negates my advantages, it's not an advantage in and of itself." Peyote gave him a level stare as he drank the rest of his beer, wordlessly replacing the empty bottle with a new full one once he had drained the contents. "So, what else?" "Tentacles?" "Excuse me?" "I can summon lots of tentacles. They're useful for *all kinds* of things." Peyote flushed slightly. "...I'm not *weak to tentacles*." "Liar. But fine, more broadly, submerging into the otherworld is pretty disorienting. You're a slow moving, vulnerable target getting entangled in the tendrils of the netherworld, whereas I'm doing short jaunt teleports and attacking from range." "I've got a few ranged attacks of my own. I wouldn't be a sitting duck." "Okay, but you're not *specialized* around them like I am." "Alright, fine. Point to you. What else?" "I'm two points up, you need more?" "Make it 3 and I'll concede that you could beat me in a fight. Otherwise, we've been giving each other too may edge cases." "Okay, okay. And I get a prize for three, right?" "Sure, sure. You get a prize." "Hmm. In that case... regeneration." "I can do that too, y'know." "Hmm, but is your stronger than mine?" "...Kind of hard to measure such things." "Well, between me and Greg..." "Greg?" Sable waved his hands vaguely. "Greg! Walking...shadowy nightmare man. He's a bro." "...So Greg is helping you, huh? So this isn't a duel anymore?" "It's a duel, Greg's like, a summon. He doesn't count." "See, this is that edge case scenario I was talking about..." "...Hmm, fine. You're good at pokey-area-of-effect-death-nova-destruction, so you could attack me *and* Greg at the same time. I'll concede that much. I think the healing is still a draw, though." Sable snapped his fingers, the sound coming out harsh and metallic from cybernetic hands. "Cosmic horror." "Oh, really?" "Yep. I can broadcast a frequency of the other dimension I tap into. It's real freaky and hard to deal with. Only a few people resist it." "Alright, I admit that I don't know what you're talking about, so maybe I couldn't defend against it-" "Which is three. So I win." Peyote sighed and took his empty beer bottle, turning around and dropping it in the recycling bin. "Yes, good game. You can probably take me in a fight. I admit, I'm not really all that strong, so don't get a big head over it." She felt a sudden stir of energy behind her, the Freak suddenly pressing against her back, hands slowly gliding down her hips. "So, with that decided-" He was interrupted by the organic 'Shlk!' of Peyote's thorns deploying, piercing him in several places. Blood and clear sap mingled as it dripped from the myriad wounds, but the Excelsior pumping through his system turned it into a distant distraction, a tingle or buzz, rather than a painful wound." "So, with that decided." He repeated. "I think it's safe to say I can handle something a little friendlier than a full on fight, right?" Peyote pushed him away, stepping back and turning around, angry. "What the hell?! Was this your idea of flirting?!" She stared at the broken-off thorns, the blood, and the sheer ambivalence the cyborg was exhibiting towards them. Sable shrugged. "Yeah, kinda. I bet you can't really 'get friendly' with anyone without burning them or poking them fulla holes, so I figured establishing that won't be a problem was a good step one." "I'm a *cactus*. What is wrong with you?!" That actually elicited a barking laugh from him. "Freakshow, baby! We're built different." "No. Hard no." "C'mooon, at least think about it!" "I thought about it, and I've decided no." She shook her head. "Now get out from behind the bar." "C'mon. I only came over here because you looked lonely." Peyote glanced up and down the bar. The pounding club music, the distant sound of laughter, chatter. People were having fun, just somewhere else. This particular bar was almost always underutilized. "I'm FINE. Now-" "Just one kiss? You did promise me a prize." Peyote sighed, glancing up at him. Her cheeks flushed. It was true, she was bored, she was lonely. And he was...handsome, in a way, even if he put her nerves on edge. Their difference in heights made her stretch up onto tiptoes. One of his hands pulled back her wide-brimmed hat, letting him get close to her face. Her jaw was too wide, oddly shaped, her tongue slim and thin and too-long, her saliva thick and sappy and lightly sweet, tinted green. Her thorns slid free again, piercing the Freak as he held her, one hand behind her head, holding her hat, the other holding her waist... well, gripping her by the ass, if she was being honest. The temperature between them rose swiftly, unnaturally, until she knew she was uncomfortably hot to the touch. The kiss, when it finally broke, both participants short on breath, should have left Sable with burned lips and hands, bleeding from the huge spikes piercing his body. The injuries, instead, were so much more minor, and they didn't seem to bother him at all. "...Shall we take this down to the base portal?" He asked, giving her a little squeeze. Peyote, her cheeks flushed a deep green, pressed her face against his chest, letting out a half-hearted little grumble. "...I think we'd better, yeah..." So yeah, Peyote was... Whatever the opposite of a Ringer is? You probably guessed it by the fact that she's a spines/fire brute, but Peyote is my farming character. I just kind of worked into the narrative her stranding in Pocket D, for the novelty value of having a level 50 Praetorian. So like a deep sea creature that can only survive around underwater geothermal vents. she's only specialized to exist in Fire Farms, against basically everyone else, she's got nothing. Being permentanly trapped in the D also puts a damper on her ability to get into scraps, so instead she and Sable just talked it out. Sable advances another round, but how many more brackets can he climb simply by meeting enemies that are uniquely vulnerable to his powers? Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 5, 2023 Author Share Posted October 5, 2023 With everyone introduced, we're now going to move on to the Quarterfinals! We're a full 2/3rds of the way through the tournament, and it's going to be fights from here to the end. We've got five of our eight slots taken by high seeds, but a few surprises have snuck in: 16th seed Samuel Hain, 18th seed RR Hood, and 22nd seed Sable Tentacle, reckoned to be the third weakest individual in the tournament, have made it to the quarterfinals. We've also had both our #1 and #2 seeds, Cosmic Cow and Looter Goblin, eliminated. Our brackets are favoring the Arachnos VEATS as well as Scrappers, with both archetypes having yet to lose either of their two represenatives, with the remaining four a mix of Defender, Mastermind, Brute, and Dominator. That does mean that Blaster, Controller, Tanker, Sentinel, Stalker, and Corruptor have all been eliminated. We're also down to just two heroes, Colmilla and Magia Prisma, with the rest of the contestants being either rogues or outright villains. We'll be doing the quarterfinals, semifinals, bronze match, and finals, covering the final 8 matches, over the coming weeks. See you there. 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 13, 2023 Author Share Posted October 13, 2023 Match 17: Seed 16 Samuel Hain vs. Seed 6 Colmilla Colmilla whirled through the air. The behemoth roared, claws slicing at where she'd been moments ago as she gripped the beasts' shoulders and used them as a pommel horse, whipping her body around in circles before changing her grip to one of the demon's arms and wings, using her momentum, weight and strength to turn the spin into a poweful throw, bringing the Behemoth Overlord up and over, slamming it into the cracked pavement. The demon let out a screech as its corporeal body, bent and broken, dissolved into searing sulferous sparks and dissipated. Taking a moment to catch her breath and let the adrenaline rush subside, she stood up to look at the eerie full moon and the blood-red light cast by the corrupted war walls. Dark Astoria, one of the most dangerous hazard zones in the city... Surely, that meant this was where she could find strong opponents? She felt something strange tug at her, and she turned. Out of the shadows a strange scarecrow shambled, dragging a fire axe on the ground behind it in one limp hand, the scrape of steel on asphalt an unnerving rasp. "Ahahah...Heeeheee.. Ahuhoo, What is this place? What is this power? Fear, death, and darkness... It's amazing, intoxicating...! My unseelie blood is boiling! No, is it frozen instead...?" The abomination's pumpkin head jittered and twitched, rattling about violently as it approached. Colmilla half raised into a combat stance, but couldn't move, to either retreat or attack. Something was wrong, her body wasn't listening... "I can't stand it... I really feel like I'm going mad...! Ahahah, you, you..! Mortal, do you feel it as well? This terrible aura? The curses are so thick, so layered, so myriad and stagnant! Epochs of horror are baked into this land! No? NO! You can't sense it, can you?! Go, then. Join the restless dead...!" With a grunt of effort, the scarecrow hauled the fire axe up in both hands, raising it over its head and then bringing it down in a splitting, execution-style swing at the heroine. With a motion that was smooth and graceful, casually effortless, she sidestepped the swing, glancing down at the axe now buried deep in the concrete. The scarecrow was much stronger than its spindly frame would imply! "...Ah, erh." Sam stared at the strange mortal. With effort, it wrenched the axe from the concrete. Raising it high, he swung it like a baseball bat, a decapitating strike. This time the masked human ducked under the swing. "...How are you doing that?! You're possessed!" "Truly skilled fighters don't need to tell their bodies to move." She seemed slightly amused, as he flailed at her, whiffing every heavy, telegraphed blow. "This is all just reflex and instinct." "Well stop it! I'm trying to kill you, you realize that, right?" So pre-occupied with trying to hit the scrapper, his magic slipped, subtly. He only realized it as the woman suddenly juked under and brought her fist up in a violent uppercut, launching him several feet into the air. Several wood struts inside his body shattered, and he landed badly, scrambling back up to his peg-legged feet. "Yes, you did. I don't know what you are, scarecrow, but I'm going to go ahead and pay you back for the attempted murder now. In fact, I plan to pay you back tenfold, so try not to die before I'm done beating the shit out of you." Outraged, a wave of darkness flew up around Sam, wraiths, black dogs, swarming crows fluttering around him as the shadows he cast became longer and deeper, the dark magic of Astoria pouring into him as he turned his indignation into magical power. "You.... DIE!" The two fighters lunged forward. Colmilla ignored the shadows and shades, the ghosts and monsters. She went right for Sam, pummeling the scarecrow with vicious blows, throws and grapples. The construct seemed immune to pain and unbothered by her joint locks, so she substituted more brutal combat techniques, slamming her opponent into light posts, into the ground, using her feet and fists as he attempted to devour her with dark magic or shred her body with his terrible strength and vicious claws. In the violent melee, a distant shimmer atop a rooftop went entirely unnnoticed. "Leaving so soon?" Romulus turned his head to regard the small floating robotic drone that had some howpierced his optical camouflage. Well, *almost* unnoticed, at any rate. Giving it a wary nod, he responded: "It's finished already, Professor. I don't need to watch to the very end when the conclusion's already this obvious." "Please, no need for the formal titles. I am neither doctor nor professor, just a fellow robotocist. Now, comrade, what do you mean by that? You think the battle has a foregone conclusion?" Romulus folded his arms. "...First off, I want to clarify just one thing. I only came here as a spectator. Out of sheer academic interest!" The drone buzzed about, camera iris clicking. The voice coming through the tiny speakers took a cheeky tone. "So, you didn't come here to cheer her on?" Romulus flushed and glared at the drone. "O-of course not." He pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with one hand. "...It's simple academic interest. I just came to impartially observe the match." "..Hmm, I see." Utopia's drone swiveled to regard the match. "She certainly doesn't seem like the type who would thank you if you dove in to help her, even if that monster got the upper hand." "...No, she doesn't, does she." Romulus sighed. "Anyway, it doesn't seem like Samhain has noticed. By now, it's probably too late to react, even if he does." "Oh? What do you mean?" Romulus gestured at the clashing luchadora and unseelie fairy. "...Do you play videogames, Professor?" "I'm afraid not." Romulus rubbed his chin. "...Hmm. I'll try and explain it in reductive terms. Fighting games, Professor. Each player controls a character in the game. They exchange blows, each one of which depletes the health of the other." The tiny drone dipped, simulating a nod. "I'm following so far. And?" "...Some games do not accurately represent the health bars of the contestants." Utopia's drone buzzed about, uncertainly. ."...I don't understand." Romulus gestured as he spoke. "Generally, the game displays health as a bar. Logically, you'd intuit that when it's full, that's 100% health. When it's half full, that's 50%, and when it's empty, that's 0%." "And you're saying that's not the case?" "No, not always. Some games will skew the the bar so that when it's half full, you actually have 66% health left. It increases the sense of tension and danger. It's called 'the magic pixel' in some circles." Utopia's camera drone orbited the teen tyrant. "I see. But I'm not sure I understand the relevance?" Romulus jerked a thumb at the clashing pair. "Colmilla is like that. You can put her on the back foot, beat her down, push her into a corner..." He shrugs. "She doesn't give up. The last ten percent of her health bar is going to take ninety percent of your effort to deplete. Making her stay down, to accept defeat, is nearly impossible." Romulus took his eyes off the fight to regard the drone smugly. "Well, if he had some sort of hidden super move, he might be able to kill her before she can really dig her heels in and power her way through the fight with determination." "Ah. So you heard of my own defeat." Romulus nodded. "My condolences, professor. But it's too late for Samhain to use that ability. Even if he notices that she's just powering through his attacks, using it now would be likely to destroy him, too." "...Well, it's wrapping up. I'm going to leave while her attention is elsewhere." "Right. You're not here to cheer her on, or celebrate her victory." Sam lashed out, snarling, his claws going for the woman's throat, only for her to close her fingers around his wrist. Her leg snapped up, kicking him in the face and then crossing over as she pulled on his arm, leaving him on his knees behind her, his arm trapped between her legs with his wrist in one hand. With one sharp twist, she broke his wrist and arm, then went into a forward sumersault, using her one free hand to bounce forward, her legs coming up behind her to dig into Hain's chest. Compressed like a spring, she waited until the roll was halfway through before thrusting her arm and legs out as fast and hard as she could, letting go of Hain as she did. The scarecrow went FLYING, launched thirty feet into the air or more, and came down with a crack of breaking wood like a bookshelf falling out a window. "You... Curse you! Damn you! Ravens peck your eyes and maggots infest your soul!" Colmilla finally sagged, her injuries coming on all at once. Her costume was shredded in a dozen places by sharp claws, and blood poured from leaking cuts. She still managed a haughty snort. "Sorry, what was that? I thought I just heard the barking of a beaten dog." "Don't think you've actually won, mortal! This body is a shell, a simulacrum! Destroy my puppet if you like, but you can't actually harm me in any way that matters!" "...That so? So if I just..." "Wait, wait, let go of me, don't...AAAAGH!" [...] "This is humiliating. Just smash me already." Colmilla grinned at the jack-o-lantern head balanced on one of the corner posts for her home wrestling ring. "The way I see it, if I do, you'll just build yourself a new body, scarecrow. This way, I can keep you out of trouble." Sam grumbled. "You'll regret this... Samuel Hain v s Colmilla Deals Lethal and some Negative Energy damage, heavily resists Smashing damage ✔️ Deals Smashing damage, modestly resists Lethal damage Modest Evasion ✔️ Superior evasion Stealth Enhanced Perception Superior Mezzes (Hold, Stun, Immobilize) Mez Resistance Superior Mezzes (Terrorize, Confuse) ✔️ No Mez Resistance Summoned Pets Strong AoE No Sustain powers ✔️ Self Heal -Acc debuffs Focused Accuracy .....! ✔️ Scaling Resistance Lethal resist caps at 1/3rd health. Surprise! Man, that bonus scaling resistance in Super Reflexes really came in clutch here. huge defense lets her slip some of the nastiest mezzes, and the ones she's vulnerable to don't prevent her from taking some actions, including healing herself. It comes down to grit and sustain, and while Sam can chain Domination to restore his endurance, he has no way to restore depleted health. Once all his tricks and debuffs are expended and the match turns into a slugfest, the wrestler is the one who comes out on top, 1 Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 20, 2023 Author Share Posted October 20, 2023 Match 18: Seed 4 Hivemind vs. Seed 5 Magia Prisma Magia Prisma's rod came down like a hammer, shattering the huge crystal into a thousand fragments, before she whirled to bring it around, smashing off the arm of a Devouring Earth rock monster. The arm remained animated, crawling on the floor independantly, the fungus inside still linked into the DE Hivemind. Another blow to the rock monster smashed it into pieces too small to easily fight, letting her turn her attention to a third enemy, the huge monsters making the underground cave seem cramped. It was like a dance. Quartz and Cairns, the emanators, were struck down first, then the minions, the Devoured, and any stray swarms taken care of last. Prioritize targets, strike with all your heart, and don't forget to smile! Pose for your fans! She sometimes wish she could just fight, rather than having to fight *stylishly*, but Veditore had made it very clear that due to her unstable nature as a magical girl, lacking teammates, she had to Pose, dance, sing, and smile, to keep her transformation from running out at the worst possible moment. Veditore had explained it in detail, something to do with the glamour, admiration, and cheers of her supporters being converted into magical energy as fuel, but the technical details had been lost on her. So, she flashed a double peace sign and then dropkicked a giant mushroom, splitting it in two. She wasn't sure who she was even fighting cutely FOR, it wasn' as if there was anything else down here to observe her, more details that Veditore had explained and she hadn't understood- "Prisma, look out!" She snapped out of the reverie as slimy tentacles wrapped around one of her legs, ensnaring her up to the thigh, while two huge hands with lamprey-like mouths in their palms reached up for her. She'd lost track of one of the Devoured during the melee, and it had managed to grip her, dragging her down into the pack of nature monsters. The two mouths hissed and gurgled as they slapped against the barrier of light that sheathed her body: "For the swarm... For the mistress...!" Channeling energy into her wand, she brought it down like a sledgehammer, right on top of the head. Momentarily stunned, the creature's tentacle-maw loosened, enough for her to drag her leg free and spin around, swinging her rod in a smiting blow, smashing whole groups of enemies onto their backs, or into walls. "Sorry, Veditore!" "Be more careful... These monsters are strong." The small cat fairy on her shoulder spoke with a deep, resonant baritone. "They're acting weird, too..." She sent an ambling tree sprawling back with a punch, before using her wand to blast the monster with kindling. "Swarm this, mistress that! Whoever's behind this, come out already, or I'll keep smashing your monsters to pieces!" "Hmm... I don't think I like your attitude, but you do have a point. I'd like to preserve as many minions as possible, and if that means challenging you myself..." The shambling monsters of the Devouring Earth receded, growling and grumbling. High heels clicked on the stone of the cave floor as Hivemind shimmered into view, regarding the small heroine with mild amusement. "...Just to make things clear, I won't be taking it easy on you just because you're a child. You cut a swath through my minions, so you can either run away or take the spanking you've earned, you little brat." "I'm Magia Prisma! A magical girl who's fighting for justice! Evildoer, I'll purify the wickedness in your heart!" Hivemind let out an indelicate snort. "...Are you actually hearing yourself right now? I can't believe even a girl your age can say lines like that with a straight face." Throwing out a hand, she manifested her will, energies swirling around the magical girl like a tornado. "On your knees, y-" She snapped her implanted blades out, holding them up in a crossed X. In a fraction of a second Magia had rocketed forward, bringing her wand down with the force of a thunderbolt. No sooner had she parried then another attack was coming, the tiny girl in the frilly pink costume driving her back. She was like a sledgehammer, a wrecking ball, a relentless offense that only grew stronger as she gathered momentum. "You're a Brute?!" "Hey, that's rude! I'm not a mindless, raging monster! Any fury I've got i just righteous indignation!" "Since when do frilly princesses like you fight in melee?! Aren't you supposed to hang back and use support magic?!"You don't watch enough anime! Plenty of magical girls have no problem getting-" "UP!" She swung her wand from below, connecting squarely with Hivemind, launching her into the air. "CLOSE!" She flashed upwards swinging down with both hands, impacting squarely and slamming Hivemind back to the ground. "And PERSONAL!" She gathered up a ball of energy at the tip of her wand, sending a sweeping shockwave down at her opponent. The blast shook the cavern, sending up chips of stone and a cloud of smoke and dust as Prisma slowly floated down, alighting delicately outside the dust cloud. "Magia-" "I know. When there's a big dust-cloud like this after an attack, they're never actually defeated yet." She kept her wand raised and ready. "But she won't have shrugged that off entirely, either. I felt all those connect solidly..." "No! Behind-" Veditore's warning came too late. Hivemind, battered, her costume torn in places, blood dripping from one busted lip, manifested behind the magical girl and grabbed her by the head in both hands. Raw waves of psionic domination flowed into her, and despite the magical wards protecting her mind, and her own raw determination, the flow of energy was just too intense. Prisma tried to raise her wand, to struggle or kick, but thoughts about trying to attack Hivemind were painful, burning in her mind like shards of ice. "Got you." Hivemind hissed as Prisma went slack in her grip. Once she had sealed off all the treacherous thoughts about continuing the fight, encasing them in barries of her own psychic power, she relaxed a little. She adjusted her grip on the magical girl, holding her face in her hands, stroking her cheeks with leather gloves. She brushed her leather gloves over the brute's lips, gently sipping her thumb into the girl's mouth, prying her mouth open. "Sh-shtop..." The girl mumbled, weakly, the most resistance she could muster. In response, Hivemind pushed harder, crushing down the girl's ego and volition. A whimpering noise escaped the heroine's throat, as Hivemind turned her around, looking into the girl's blank, glassy eyes. "Stick your tongue out." She ordered. Prisma complied, "Mouth open. Wide." She complied, closing her eyes and sticking her tongue out as far as she could, mouth open like she was visiting the dentist. Cupping her chin with one hand, she raised the other. With a 'snikt' Hivemind triggered one of her poisoned wrist blades, laying the long spike of metal on the tip of her tongue, and then slowly gliding it down, into her mouth. "Ngh. Ahgnh..." Tiny vocal protests, but she was well past the point of being able to fight back. Hivemind stopped before the needle tip pricked the back of her throat. Even invulnerable, super-strong enemies often had weak points, the eyes, the inside of the mouth. From this position, she could ram the spike through the back of the girl's throat, or upwards into her brain. She literally held the little pink brute's life in her hands. "...Good girl." She cooed. She angled the poisoned blade up, leaving a deliberate, shallow scratch on the roof of the girl's mouth. The neurotoxin in the blades would render her unconscious shortly, but there wouldn't be any permenant damage. She let the blade slide back into her arm, keeping her grip on the girl's chin as she withdrew her psychic influence as well. Magia Prisma jerked as if startling awake, but her body was already limp and useless as the poison overwhelmed her. Releasing her grip on the girl, she let her pitch forward, onto hands and knees. As a final humiliation, she lifted one heeled boot and casually rested it on the back of the heroine's head, pressing her forehead to the stone floor. She ground her heels in, painfully, as she spoke. "Consider this your one freebie, hero. Next time, I'll feed you to the Devoured, and make you another member of my hive. Mediporter, one to teleport." Prisma opened her mouth for a comeback, before she vanished in a blue-white flash. Hivemind hadn't even let her get in the last word... Hivemind v s Magia Prisma Deals Lethal, Toxic, and Psionic damage. Lightly resists Smashing Damage (Strongly resists smashing at low health) ✔️ Deals Smashing damage. Modestly resists Toxic, Greatly resists Lethal, Strongly resists Psionic Elusive to Smashing ✔️ Elusive to Lethal, no evasion vs. Psionics Mezzes (Hold, Immobilized) Mez Reistance Mezzes (Confuse) ✔️ No Mez Resistance Stealthed, bonus Perception Stealthed, bonus Perception Self Heal for sustain ✔️ Self Heal and End siphon Flight Flight Magical Girls are weak to yuri ✔️ That's a rude stereotype! Magia Prisma is a wrecking ball, and she's extremely good at what she does: Scads of smashing damage while having defense, resistance, and sustain through her self heals and energy-drains. When you've got a hammer, or a war mace, everything looks like a nail, but while she's got a hammer, Hivemind has a whole toolbox. Being able to flex into relying on her confusion and psionic attacks, something that Energy Aura's positional defenses can't easily deflect, is why I warded her the win here, as the two were otherwise very evenly matched. So, the innocent magical girl falls to the dark femme fatale, leaving Colmilla the last hero in the tournament, going up against Hivemind in the semifinals. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted October 27, 2023 Author Share Posted October 27, 2023 Match 19: Seed 18 RR Hood vs Seed 17 Ryuko Kobayashi Amanda Vines screamed. It seemed like the thing to do. Huge, viney fingers closed around her, the enormous pumpkin-headed halloween monster letting out a fiery bellow. Small arms fire peppered Eochai, the hallow spirit roaring and stomping the ground, sending a wave of fire at the Arachnos Wolf Spiders that surrounded it. Though the bullets were hardly even pinpricks, the giant monster turned and dug one green fist into the brickwork of the WSPDR building and hauled itself upward, scrabling until it's feet found purchase in the brickwork. Slowly, ponderously, it began to climb. Marshall Brass pinched the bridge of his nose, staring down at the blurry still taken from a Huntsman's helmet camera. "...Jenkins." "Sir?" "Isn't the giant pumpking monster usually *smaller*? We've deal with this ridiculous halloween bullshit every year. Normally, it doesn't get that big, and it doesn't USUALLY decide to play King Kong with our star reporter. Brass tossed the photo, paperclipped to the top of a folder containing the report on the incident. It depicted Eochai holding a screaming Amanda Vines in its fist as it hung off one of the two broadcasting antenna atop the WSPDR building. "We're still looking into it, sir. At the moment we think it may have something to do with the Circle of Thorns, or interference from the PTS relays in the area... We're questioning Dr. Aeon as we speak." That cheered Brass slightly. Even if it wasn't actually his fault, he enjoyed the thought that Aeon was getting harassed and possibly even beaten for unleashing another giant monster on Aeon City. "Alright. Options?" "We can petition an attack Flyer in to bombard it, or one of the Patrons to be flown in from Grandville." "Vanguard? They have a DPO near there." "They don't seem to be getting involved, sir. Neither are the Midnight Squad at the university." Brass sighed. "Hire some supermercenary to take care of this, then." Amanda Vines continued to scream. There didn't seem to be a good reason to stop, really. Her voice was beginning to get hoarse, though, and she had motion sickness due to being whipped through the air in the giant monster's fist. With an incongrous little 'ding' the elevator on the building's roof opened up, and a seven-man team of soldiers poured out of it, gas-mask wearing troopers with obscured faces, and one mastermind leading them in a red cape and hood. At a command from their leader, the mercenaries opened fire, their heavy assault rifles barking as their customized ammunition tore through the monster, some poison contained in the capsule rounds bursting, the defoliant causing the fairy pumpkin to wither where the rounds struck. Eochai let out a terrible roar,dropping down and trying to crush one of the soldiers with a huge foot, but they slipped away, some combination of training, leadership, and the floating force-field generator that bobbed near the back of the formation letting him escape the attack with contemptous ease. Red planted another auto-turret, the machine swiveling and launching another canister of plant-killer with a 'foont'. "Medic bag on the ground, take if you need it. Mortars are out. Call if you take a hit... This should be an easy payday." Finally unslinging her anti-material rifle, Red aimed down the sight and sent a high-calibur rifle round through the pumpkin's head, a spatter of orange thrown up from the shot. "And watch your fire! It's got a hostage!" Holzfäller slapped his frankengun and snapped one of its add-ons into place, taking a knee. "Rocket out in three, two, ONE!" He cried, sending an explosive warhead into the center mass of the Fir Bolg. Stumbling, Eochai teetered, starting to fall backwards off the building. "Shit! Get the news anchor!" "Use a grapple line, stop it from falling!" "Something on the motion detectors, there's-" There was a blur of blue and white, and something came up the side of the building, intersecting Eochai near the elbow. With a sharp metal SHINK noise, the hardened vines parted, sliced in two, Eochai letting out a cry of pain and rage as it tumbled from the top of the building. The blue streak plummeted, hitting the falling arm and cutting it into multiple peices landing with a terrified Amanda Vines held in its arms. Ryoko wobbled a moment, awkwardly carrying the newscaster in a bridal carry, her Katana held in a reverse-grip to keep it away from the rescued woman, who she gently set on her feet a moment later. Amanda didn't bother to thank her rescuer, sprinting for the elevator. Ryoko gave her katana a flourish, flicking the vegentable juices off it and then sheathing it. She then looked up, noting the men with guns. "...The hell is that?" "Wow. It's just like one of my japanese animes..." RR ignored Fuchs and Ziegel conversing. "You, identify yourself." "Ryoko Kobayashi. I'm just a hunter passing through, and I saw that big Devouring Earth monster-" "That's not a Devouring Earth! It's an Eochai, they're-" "Big pumpkin monster! Devouring Earth. It's gotta be." RR stared at the schoolgirl for a moment. Thankfully, Holzfäller vocalized what she was thinking: "...Is this girl an idiot?" "Anyway, since I hunted it, it's mine now." "First off, not only is it not a devouring earth, it's not YOURS. We have the contract to eliminate this target." "...Ah, is that so? So, you want to fight over it? That's fine, too~" She smiled cheerfully, her hand going to the hilt of her katana. RR sighed and held up a hand. At her command, all her troops ejected their magazines, slapped in new ones, and worked the bolt to chamber a fresh round. Not only was it good intimidation, swapping to gel rounds to nonlethally incapacitate would make her feel better about trouncing this interloper. "Light her up." Her squad opened up, but the girl blurred, skewing left and right, weaving through the hail of gunfire, her hands dipping into unseen pockets and coming out with fistfuls of sharp steel. The knife and the shuriken spun out on trajectories through the hail of gunfire, aiming at hands, guns, breaking or jamming the weapons and injuring the soldiers. With her initial salvo depleted, the sword came out, a single flawless curved piece of steel that shone like a crescent moon as it whirled through the air, bullets sparking off it as the girl somehow deflected the incoming fire, rushing in for the kill. RR dropped her rifle, hands coming up. One had a webnade and the other a fistful of caltrops, she threw both at the enemy to slow her fire. Her HUD responded to the rapid movements of her eyes, setting the two auto-mortars to hose the girl down with the defoliant chemical rounds. She figured the acid probably having an unpleasant effect on humans as well as plants, and it was more things to huck at the incoming swordsman, anyway. Nothing seemed to slow her down, though, she zoomed around hte caltrop patches, evaded the webnade, and was up in melee range before Red could react. A last ditch option, she grabbed the axe-head from her belt, the ghost-slaying axe's handle unfolding on a collapsing telescoping rod, and she brought it up defensively as the girl brought her katana down. Sparks flew, and Ryoko had to blink backwards a second later as more gunfire ripped through where she'd been a moment ago. Zipping backwards, she spun 180 and ran UP the broadcast tower, ascending it halfway before pushing off and turning into a meteoric drop, crashing into the assembled mercs with her katana drawn, a spinning crashing Lotus Drop that sent out a shockwave of wind that cut just like the edge of a sword would, sending the Marchen mercenaries crashing backwards. Red rolled to her feet and charged, bringing the axe down in a few hard swings, but RR parried it with casual ease, far more skilled at close range than Red could ever be. "God, she's fast..." Red had a moment of admiration, before flinging out several grenades, the cannisters clacking across the ground to Ryoko's feet, who regarded them with a puzzled expression. Clicking her detonator, Red triggered the charge, a cloud of noxious green poison exploding out and engulfing most of the rooftop, Red's mercenary team having to pull back from the growing cloud. "Heh. No matter how good you are at dodging, you can't escape gas." Red watched the roiling cloud with a sense of satisfaction. She checked her troopers, who were limping and injured, moving to grab supplies from the medic bag on the floor. With her back turned, she missed the blue and white streak erupting from the cloud. "...Gross. But I'm pretty used to poison." Red didn't have time to react, a small-size sneaker hit the back of her head and drove her to the ground, the lenses of her gas mask cracking into spiderwebbed fragments as she was smashed to the roofing, Ryoko leaping off her like a springboard after her mercenaries. One arm was held over her nose and mouth, but the sleeve of her shirt was the only concession she made to the poison gas, her katana held one handed as she used her feet to fight, moving so fast she was a blur of color and motion, flashing between the Marchen soldiers, hitting them with bone-breaking force, disabling each of them in turn. As they fell, Red rose, grabbing her sniper rifle, bringig it up and aiming at the back of Ryoko's head, squeezing the trigger. The shot was good, but somehow the high school girl twisted in the air, bringing her sword up and then down in a vertical chop, slicing the incoming anti-material bullet in two the seperate halves continuing on past her and throwing up sparks as they hit the metal of the broadcast tower. "Ugh..!" Ryoko looked up. In a fraction of a second, the ninja girl had crossed the rooftop and was pointing her sword down at her. "It's my win. I'll be taking the monster." After a moment, Red had to nod. Her squad was out of condition. Withdrawing now was the smart call. The moment she relented, the girl beamed, sheathing her sword. "Yatta~ Pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake~ Big Devouring Earth monster for dinner~" She bounced off, cheerful. Red groaned, her head lowering to the roof as her head spun. "It's not...a devouring earth..." RR Hood v s Ryuko Kobayashi Deals high amounts of Lethal with some Smashing, Fire, and Toxic. No notable Lethal resistance ✔️ Deals high amounts of Lethal Damage. Modestly resists Lethal, Smashing, Fire, and Toxic damage Elusive to Lethal Damage Elusive to all positionals Stealth, bonus Perception Stealth, bonus Perception Triage beacon and medicine pool for sustain ✔️ Strong single self heal via riceballs Multiple Pets ✔️ Strong AoE (Lotus Drops, Flashing Steel, exploding shuriken) Debuffs (Defense) Resists Defense Debuffs Debuffs (Regen, Tohit) ✔️ No debuff resistance Confuse Resistance Confuse Cone Trump: All out Assault ✔️ Trump: Nothing in particular. Traps specialist ✔️ Can't trap a ninja! Red has been having an incredible showing, but Ryoko has some well placed lethal resistance, better sustain, large AoE attacks to wipe minion crowds, and no particular vulnerability to the mezzes and debuffs that Traps brings to the party. Only one of these rogues could advance to the semifinals, and it'll be the Scrapper, Ryoko, Next week will be Tomb Spider vs. Sable Tentacle, facing off in the last of our quarterfinal matches. Happy early halloween, and see you all then. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted November 3, 2023 Author Share Posted November 3, 2023 Match 20, Seed 3 Tomb Spider vs. Seed 22 Sable Tentacle Tomb Spider came to, floating in absolute darkness. He put one hand to his head, to rub his forehead, and then make sure his hat was still in place. With the first two important checks completed, he looked around. His eyes weren't adjusting to the darkness, but he could still see things squirming in the darkness, shifting and moving apendages, eyes, mouths, teeth, tentacles, masses that pulsated as if breathing, or pulsing with the beat of a heart. He tried to focus on what had happened, his memories scattered, hazy. He remembered the ambush by the Oranbegan mages, crashing through their summoned demons and acolytes, a half dozen death mages all pooling their power, channeled through an artifact, a warped idol of twisted dead wood... "'sup, d00d." He opened his eyes. Four points of light glimmered in the darkness, another figure drawing near. The cyborg drew near, walking some unseen path that twisted through the air, bearing little relationship to 'up and 'down', if such concepts even existed here. "...What's going on? Who are you, and where is this?" "So, I'm S4ble T3nt4cle. Y0u're in the n3therw0rld, or at l34st p4rt of it, or one of th3m." "...I've heard of you. The Abyss Diver." "Wh0ah, c00l title. But I'm just S4ble. 'S4bes' if w3're fr1ends." "I'll keep that in mind, 'Sable'." The Freak's cheeky grin didn't falter. "So, h0w'd you end up h3re?" "Banishment spell, I think." "Ah, M4g1c." Sable made the disinterest clear in his voice. "Any chance you know an easy way back out?" N4h. Y0u've sunk t00 deep." Sable gestured with his hands. "Ne4r the surf4ce of th1s d1m3nsion, the pr3ssure f0rces you b4ck out. Th4t's how my sh0rt r4nge t3lep0rts w0rk, it's like a d0lph1n jump1ng 0ut of the w4ter and g3tt1ng pull3d b4ck into the w4ter by gr4v1ty but in a d1ffer3nt pl4ce." "...But it's different here?" "Ye4h. Y0u're t00 d33p. You c4n't l34ve anym0re. It's n0t so b4d th0ugh. y0u w0n't age or g3t hungry or th1rsty d0wn h3re." "..That doesn't make sense. This is the netherworld. Dark energies, the draining of life, fire and darkness. Succubuses." "Br000 if th1s pl4ce h4d succubuses, th4t w0uld be S1CK. But no. Th1s is the squ1rming d4rkness, the wr1th1ng abyss, the R3alm of the All-M0ther. All is l1fe, and endl3ss pr0fus10n of gr0wth, c3asel3ss and canc3r0us. Th1s is a hum1d w0mb, a fert1le v4lley, Th1s is the r34lm of the Bl4ck g0at of the w00ds, with a th0usand y0ung!" As he spoke, his voice grew feverish, rapturous, a cultish reverence in his voice. Tomb Spider felt the things in the dark moving more intently, drawing closer to him. "S0, l1ke, rel4x. Y0ure s4fe h3re. The All-m0ther l0ves hum4n1ty. Y0u'll be t4ken c4re of-" Tomb Spider had had enough. He drew his pistol from his shoulder holster under his jacket, thumbing off the safety as he went, barely aiming before squeezing the trigger, snapping off a pair of thunderous shots. The huge magnum desert-eagle knockoff was chambered for a truly disgusting caliber of round, vibration-absorbing super-metals incorporated into the gun to try and mitigate the recoil of the super-dense slug. It was the sort of thing Malta Gunslingers used to punch holes in invulnerable superheroes, and it still had enough kick that his arm practically went numb. Two wet, messy holes upened up in the freak's head, a huge blast of purple ichor blasting out the back of his skull. His eyes rolled back in his head, showing the whites, a ghoulish smirk on his face as he collapsed bonelessly. Tomb spider lowered the gun. "Sorry, buddy. But you got down here too, so I'm betting that teleporter pack can get me out of here..." "0h0h. S0rry, it's actu4lly n0t a b4ckpack. it's w3lded to my sp1ne..." The grinning purple-haired clown slowlly drew himself up off the floor, as if being pulled by a wire. Like an old-style movie vampire rising up out of his coffin, he drifted up, the wounds in his head closing up, his eyes pools of milky white as he grinned in a horrid rictus of a smile. "S0, y0u w0uldn't have b33n able to use it anyw4y.." Meaty squelching rang out, and more lights brightened in the dark. Twisted reflections, shambling parodies of the freakshow defender, suddenly loomed out of the darkness, variations of the man's shape but with raw red flesh and glossy black eyes growing from tumor-like protrusions from their skin. "The All-m0ther w0n't let y0u d1e d0wn h3re, but if y0u're g0nna be l1ke th4t, bro..." Tomb Spider shot him again. He counted in his head as emptied the magazine, controlled shots. Aim for the head, don't bother to double tap. Seven. Six. Five... The imperfect reflections collapsed with sprays of blood, slithering tentacles starting to reach out of the dark, to twine around his arms or legs, and he had to kick off them to try and reposition. Three, two... and the slide locked with his last shot. He threw the gun at the last reflection, then cursed himself, that thing was expensive and if he got out of here replacing it woulld be a pain in the ass. Too late, it was floating off into the void, now. This had turned into a zombie movie. The darkness itself pounded with an angry heartbeat, endless protrosions of flesh growing, manifesting increasingly less man-shaped copies of the original cultist. Masses of flesh, eyes, mouths, tentacles, arrayed without a care. He drew a belt knife, his mouth dry, until he felt a familiar pulse of magical energy. The Halberd. He thrust his hand out into the darkness. Pulling at the connection they shared, he felt it tremble in his mind. The red glow surged out of the darkness as he drew the Halberd of Hequat to him, drawing in its magical energy. He was fire, lightning, invincible and invisible. He swung the ancient mu weapon in an arc, slicing apart the simulacrums, reversing his grip to use the hammer mounted on the back to crush another. bolts of poisoned lightning arced from the tip of the polearm, red and wicked, tearing into the flesh, searing the shambling monsters and pushing them back. The light the red bolts cast illuminated scenes of absolute horror, and he heard screaming. It took him a moment to realize it was his own voice, a yell of somewhere between fear and defiance as he pushed every bit of will he could into the magical construct. The lightning intensified, until it overwhelmed everything, and all he could see was the light. Technician Grant Naylor tapped his tablet. That was unusual, the portal was opening from the other side. That hardly ever happened. He glanced up at the runes of warding over the doorway that kept out the Circle of Thorns in the jungle outside, and then walked over to his neatly stacked, inventoried crates of supplies. He selected his Breach Buddy, a standard arachnos shotgun with a decidedly unconventional load, a scattershot selection of blessed, cursed, axiomatic, garlic-infused, silver, cold-iron, gold shells with a good deal of incendiary phospherous mixed in. Who knew what was going to come out of the portal, so it was best to just throw everything at the wall. And set it on fire, with good measure. He put the gun to his shoulder and sighted down the barrel, just like in training, as the portal surged and flared, before glowing a blistering purple and disgorging a slime-covered Tomb Spider, collapsing on the ramp leading to the portal in an oozing heap. "MOTHERFUCKER." Naylor blinked. Tomb spider half rose, trying to wipe the slime from his face. Once he'd gotten enough of the muck off, he stared up at the shotgun, then up at Naylor. "...Hi, Grant." "Hi, Vic." Tomb Spider v s Sable Tentacle Deals Smashing damage with some, Energy and Poison damage. Good Negative Energy resistance ✔️ Deals minor negative energy damage. Superior Smashing resistance, good Energy and toxic damage resistance Elusive to all positionals ✔️ Elusive to Ranged attacks Stealth and bonus perception ✔️ Stealth Fear and Slow Resistant ✔️ Fears and Slows No -tohit resistance ✔️ Scads of -tohit No sustain powers ✔️ Powerful self heal Sable had a lot more longevity than he should have, but he ridiculously lucked out on getting fights against enemies that he was either uniquely suited to take out, or that were a lot weaker and more specialized than their seed would indicate. HIs luck streak ends here, closing out the quarterfinals. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted November 3, 2023 Author Share Posted November 3, 2023 This is it, the semi-finals. All but one of these characters is guaranteed a podium finish. Who's going to have fought their way here, to the brink, but fail to achieve glory? Who's going to take the crown? It's down to the Scrappers and the Arachnos Soldiers, A hero, a villain, and two rogues. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted November 10, 2023 Author Share Posted November 10, 2023 Match 21, Seed 8 Colmilla vs. Seed 4 Hivemind The city was in peril! Colmilla ran full out, bouncing off tree branches and shattered buildings, bits of twisted monorail track and the living, screeching bodies of the Devouring Earth monsters as she flew across their twisted Eden. The strange stone spires of the Hamidon thrust above the forest canopy in places, more footholds for her high-flying leaps. As she moved further and further into the hazard zone, towards the huge spire-mountain that guarded the way into the HIve proper, she could make out more of her targets: a mixture of Arachnos soldiers and Devouring Earth. The bane spider's armor had been repainted, the red and purple replaced with bright yellow, and the devoured along with their stone, crystal, and vegetable minions had simply been splashed with yellow paint in broad stripes, denoting their new allegiance. High above the rabble, the villainess Hivemind flittered about on insect wings, alighting atop one of the many stone pillars to survey her pursuer. By her side, one of the bane spider executioners held their kidnapping target: Penelope Yin. The powerful psychic was bound and gagged, her eyes glassy and unfocused, drooling slightly around the hard ball of rubber shoved into her mouth. Drugged? Under some psychic malaise? Colmilla didn't know, and didn't have time to find out. She reached the frontlines of the enemy formation, sliding into an attack in one smooth motion. She leapt, twisting herself horizontal as she went, and grabbed the too-large helmet of a bane-spider. She let her momentum carry her, twisting the helmet around backwards to blind the occupant, while her feet made solid contact with a devouring earth crystal, shattering it in a single blow. The shards of the crystal shot out like glittering shrapnel into the crowd of assembled minions, and she finished her 180* revolution around the Bane spider she let go of the helmet, grabbed his shoulders and planted her knee firmly into his back, an unpleasant crack of shattering ribs and vertebrae as he tumbled to the ground. She juked to one side as an arachnos mace-blast crackled past her from behind, turning and rushing forward. A slide brought her between the legs of a snarling devoured, and she seized its ankles to trip it, bringing it down on its face. She half-rose into a crouch, heaving at the monster's ankles, bringing it around in a giant swing, clubbing several assembled villains with it before heaving it as a giant projectile at one of the giant stone monsters, crushing it to rubble under its own ally. "Impressive!" Hivemind buzzed from high above. Colmilla risked a glance up, snagging one of the arachnos soldier as he tried to use the moment of weakness and dragging him into a choke hold, using the spider as a human shield while she listened to the villain monologue."You'd make a fine minion. I'd take the time to enslave you, but I'm afraid I'm on a tight schedule, so I'll just have to just defeat you instead." "Let the girl go and I'll give you a head start." "Mmm. Two problems with that. Firstly, I need her. My own psychic powers aren't quite strong enough to mentally dominate the Hamidon, so I'll have to be using the world's most powerful psychic as an amplifier. Once I've used her to enslave that big jelly, and have complete control over the Devouring Earth's psychic network, though, I'll be happy to give her back." Hivemind affectionately patted the psychic on the head. "She's cute enough that it would be a waste to have her Devoured, don't you agree?" "Mind control the Hamidon...? You're insane!" "How rude. And you've forgotten, I said there were *two* problems with you giving us a head start. The second one is that our escape vehicle is already here." The huge black bulk of an arachnos flyer slowly, silently, rotated around the bulk of the mountain. Aquiring a target lock on the luchadora took a perfect comedic beat before it launched a salvo of rockets, Colmilla immediately hurling her human shield to safety as the barrage approached. Time seemed to slow as the black-spined rockets with their explosive payload streaked towards her. Saturation bombardment, the air was crowded with projectiles that left nowhere to dodge. Not left, not right, not forward or back. That left one direction: Up. Colmilla leaped up, thrown boulders and tech blasts whizzing past her as she found her first foothold on a speeding missile, jumping to the next. Sure, they exploded a split second after she used one to jump off of, but the explosion behind her just propelled her to the next foothold and the next. Any part of her that decried the feat as impossible had been squashed or burned out long ago, any doubt would have slowed her reflexes or held her back. Everything came back to sharp focus as she cleared the last rocket, out of the slow-motion dreamlike haze. Her fingers hit one of the two circular hover-disks on the flyer and she gripped with all her might, feet kicking at empty air as she tried to maintain a hold on the flyer. She felt it trying to turn, to re-acquire her, as she tried to pull herself up onto the disc. She'd gotten halfway up when Hivemind alighted atop it, her wrists bursting into poisonous barbs as a long straight stinger-blade appeared atop her wrist, stabbing down. Colmilla had to drop back, going back to gripping the ledge with just her fingertips. "Impressive, impressive! You're really a fantastic physical specimine, aren't you? No widow I know could do something that recklessly insane." "Insane? Heh. Luchadors can fly, don't you know?" She had to release and dangle from one hand as Hivemind's stiletto heel came down where her fingers had been a moment later, twisting and grabbing another handhold to dodge the stomps. "I think I've changed my mind." She caught one of Colmilla's fingers with the edge of her boot, eliciting a yelp from the scrapper. "You're worthy of turning into a personal bodyguard." She held a hand out, sending out a sudden wave of subduing psychic force. "Either your brain melts and I turn you into one of my servants, or you mediport back to a hospital, or you let go, fall, and *splat*." She redoubled the psychic pressure, Colmilla grimacing and letting out the occasional gasp or grunt of pain, spots of blood appearing on her mask, blood leaking from her nose, ears, and eyes. "And honestly, while I'd prefer the first option, the other two kind of work for me!" Colmilla choked on her own tongue as her mind burned. All her thoughts, all her memories, were starting to sizzle away, buried under simple, brute force commands: Love Hivemind. Obey Hivemind. Serve the Hive. She really, REALLY wished she had something, anything: throwing knives, a rock, *a gun* would be nice right now. But she fought with her honor and her own two fists, nothing else. She swung her body side to side, buffeted by air currents as the Flyer slowly spun, Hivemind floating above her. Unable to dodge, unable to resist the psychic assault, she started to black out, until her ankle banged against metal. She'd been swinging around, and a particuarly hard banking turn had swung her foot up to impact the side of the flyer. In a flash of inspiration, she hauled herself to the side, planting both feet on the side of the flyer. Wedging her hands between the machine's main chassis and the hover disc, she finally had some leverage, and she immediately pushed with everything she had. Hivemind started as the metal groaned, the hover disk trying to come free from the vehicle. She deployed her spikes again, lunging forward for a lethal stab, and skewered Colmilla, impaling her on the poisoned claw, drawing a splash of red blood, but it was too late. The Disk was torn free and she had to leap back, triggering her wings and stopping her fall. The flyer spun out of control, leaning wildly as it sagged and then impacted the mountain with a thunderous burst. Colmilla fell. Bleeding out, she put her hope on one simple fact: The flyer's hover disc would keep running for at least a few seconds after being torn from the main craft. She hauled herself around, feeling the gravitational current trying to blast her away as she planted her feet on the base of the piece of technology as it tumbled through the air. She looked up, waited until she saw Hivemind, and lept. The propulsive force of the skimmer and her own leap rocketed her up, farther and faster than she could have made on her own. Far and fast enough for her to reach the high-flying former fortunata, and to impact her in midair. Colmilla didn't listen to Hivemind's screech of protest, instead just doing a one two pair of punches to the face to disorient her before pulling her into a midair grapple. Belly to belly, she flipped upside down, trapping Hivemind's head between her thighs, while she used both hands to grip at her forearms just below the elbow, keeping hivemind's arms pinned behind her back where she couldn't make use of the poisoned claws. As they reached the apex of her high jump, she inverted them, starting to bring them down in a whirling cyclone. "Martillo giratorio de plata! SILVER SPINNING PILEDRIVER!" Hivemind's minions had been scattered and disoriented by the sudden rocket attack, and moreso by the crashing flyer, but her hold on them truly broke as their former commande came down in their midst like a meteor, an explosive crash that threw up chips of stone and clouds of dust. Colmilla let go of her opponent and rolled off her, clutching the poisoned wound in her gut. For a haunting moment, she wasn't sure if the fortunata had somehow soaked the attack, before a devoured let out a bellowing roar and attempted to eat a Bane spider, who shoved his mace into its mouth and start unloading energy blasts. Whatever spell on them had been broken. ...and now she had to clean up the infighting before the Devouring Earth ate the brainwashed spiders. She let out a pained groan, taking a moment to slip her tech-medkit out of her belt and run it over the puncture wound in her stoomach, letting the organs, skin, and muscle knit together before replacing the tiny smartphone gizmo in her belt. A hero's work is never done... Colmilla v s Hivemind Deals high amounts of Smashing damage. Resists Lethal, especially at low health. Very low Psionic or Toxic resistance. Deals Lethal, Toxic, and Psionic damage. Moderately resists Smashing Damage Increased Perception Stealth Mez protection Mezzes (Holds, immobs) No Mez Protection WAIT NO NEVERMIND SUPER REFLEXES HAS CONFUSION PROTECTION Mezzes (Confusion) Superior Sustain ✔️ Weak Self Heal Superjump ✔️ Hoverblasting Big Lucha Crits ✔️ Weak to spike damage Whoops, I forgot Super Reflexes actually has confuse protection! That's fun. It comes down to a few things: Colmilla does more damage, but is of a type Hivemind resists. Hivemind does lower damag,e of a type that Colmilla barely resists. Colmilla doesn't have a good way to deal with hoverblasting, having to jump up for each hit awkwardly. They both have self heals, but Colmilla's is better (slotted out) than Hivemind's. It actually comes down to the fact that Scrappers can land critical hits that break the stalemate for me, Hivemind can continously harass Colmilla but doesn't have a good way to seal the deal without abandoning her high vantage point and using her claws, and if Colmilla can land a big crit, that can end the fight with Hivemind being unable to heal back from it. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Crasical Posted November 17, 2023 Author Share Posted November 17, 2023 Match 22: Seed 7 Ryoko Kobayashi vs. Seed 3 Tomb Spider Leaves drifted down from the forest canopy, high over Primeva. The dense jungle that made up the north half of the zone was infested with the Circle of Thorns and their ancient ruins, as well as Crey scientists, Arachnos, devouring earth, and others. It was a hotbed of conflict. Ryoko was picking jungle fruit. She dropped down from a high branch, stuffing a retrieved avacado into a plastic bag while a banana wobbled from her lips. Once her hand swas freed up and the bag slung back at her hip, she took the banana and chewed for a moment, spitting out a few of the seeds before stuffing the stick of sweet creamy fruit back into her mouth. She continued her saunter down the forest trails, distant sounds of gunfire, chanting, all muffled into an unnerving susurrus under the creak of the old trees. Her conscious mind was several seconds behind her body in unsheathing her katana, leaping up as concealed landmines detonated, boueyed up by the explosions. Dragging her sword through air suddenly heavy with malice, ripping blades of wind dispersed the blast and sliced through undergrowth, fallen leaves splitting in two as her attack tore several lurking arachnobots to pieces. She landed lightly, crouching with her katana held in a reverse grip. "Come out! I can sense you, there's no point in hiding!" The air rippled slightly, Tomb Spider appearing a few yards away. "...You martial artists sure like to talk a big game about being able to sense killing intent. Overrated, I think, personally." "Who are you?!" "Tomb Spider. Looking to settle a score with a naughty tigress who uses these woods as a personal playground. And you're some anime japanese ninja girl, I take it?" "...Ryoko Kobayashi." "...Anime Japanese ninja girl." He repeated. "And one who didn't sense my ambush before she bumbled right into the middle of it. I'm honestly kind of tempted to give you a beating for slicing up my robots and triggering all my landmines." Ryoko flipped her sword around, gripping it in both hands, a more traditional kendo grip. "Try it." "I said tempted. There's no particular benefit for me in fighting you." He shrugged disarmingly. "You're free to continue berry picking or whatever you're doing out here. Just get out of my sight." Ryoko blinked, then slowly sheathed her sword, placated. "...Alright. If you're not going to fight..." She gave a small but respectful bow. "You're more sensible than a lot of Arachnos villains." She half turned before her instincts suddenly screamed. Tomb spider had closed the distance in a shockingly short amount of time, thrusting the huge bronze hammer-axe at her like a lance, the impact sending her flying back into a huge tree with an explosion of lightning energy. The falling leaves ignited as red lightning crackled through them, falling to the forest floor as burning cinders, rapidly igniting the dry undergrowth. Ryoko's vision blurred and spun with double vision. With his back sillhouetted against the nascent forest fire, Tomb Spider loomed over her as a huge dark shape. "...There's no particular reason to fight you, but there's no particular reason NOT to, either. And I knew that being able to sense killing intent was bullshit." He raised the hammer end of the axe up, bringing it down to crush the schoolgirl's skull. Roko's raw instincts saved her again. Even realing, she rolled to the side at the last minute, skidding to her feet, leaping up to dodge the blast of red-green lightning he threw at her from his hammer. More flame spread from the impact point, and Tomb Spider shouldered the long-hafted weapon, sizing her up as he slowly approached. "...You know, you're a lot like her..." Ryoko wasn't paying attention, grabbing one of the avacados from her bag and biting into it like an apple, swallowing down both the rind and the buttery flesh within, feeling her hyperative metabolism start to work, turning the fruit into fuel. "Yeah, now I can see it. You're like Mynx. Self taught fighting style, speed, instinct..." He lunged in, a huge strike followed by two lighter follow-up swings. "You're no ninja! You're a beast, an animal!" Ryoko parried them with a grunt of effort, metal clashing ringing out over the crackling of the fire around them. "A feral, atavistic throwback. There's no technique here, no thinking brain, just reflexes and intuition. Heh. You might actually make a good warmup for Mynx." Ryoko grimaced. "...There wasn't anyone to teach me to fight. I had to figure it all out by myself." She tried a few quick probing attacks before ducking in, spinning as she brought her sword up in a low sweeping strike, the strike bouncing off some magical protection sheathing the Arachnos archaeologist. "I'm fine with being just a beast. I'm not a warrior, or a killer! I'm just a hunter." "A hunter? You're a predator. A prowling jungle cat." More lightning roared from the halberd, Ryoko having to dodge and deflect it, pushed away from Tomb Spider so he had room to bring his long hammer to bear, bringing it down like a sledgehammer in an attack that sent an explosion of energy out from the impact point, impossible to block or parry. "And that means you're never going to really mesh with polite society." He finished, lifting his hammer. Ryoko had dodged, but been thrown by the strike's shockwave, struggling to rise. "...Well, fortunately for you, you're not going to have to worry about it. Animal instincts don't know how to utiize technology." He reached into his coat, pulling out a small detonator. "And you didn't actually get *all* of my landmines." Ryoko vanished in a fireball, Tomb Spider holding up an arm to shield his face, bits of shrapnel pattering off his reinforced leather coat. Lowering it, he viewed the resultant crater with some satisfaction. The burning leaves fluttered down like glowing snow on the prone body of the ninja girl, covered in bleeding cuts and burns from the surprise explosives. "...Not bad for a trial run." His own reflexes kicked in too slow. The long curved steel fang of the jungle hunter pierced through him, the katana finding a spot between his ribs to pierce through his arachnos T-shirt and out of his back. The bit of blood-slick sharpened metal poked out through leather jacket, and he coughed up some blood as it was withdrawn. He pitched forward into the burning underbrush. Ryoko licked the last bits of avacado off her fingers, feeling her strength return to her after being caught in the blast. She swung her katana to flick the blood off it, then re-sheathed it, spitting out the large pit onto the ground. She tensed suddenly, turning to the smouldering archaeologist. "...You can recover that fast fron an injury that serious...?" He half rose, using the haft of his halberd as a crutch. " Heh... You're not an animal... you're a goddamn monster..." Blood filled his lung, turning the end of the sentence into a strained warble. He collapsed again, and lay still. Ryoko silently observed her opponent for a moment, then turned to depart, burning branches starting to fall as the flames consumed them. Ryoko Kobayashi v s Tomb Spider Deals Superior Lethal Damage, Resists Smashing, Energy, and Toxic Deals Smashing, Energy, and Toxic Damage, Solidly resists Lethal damage. Elusive Elusive Stealth, +Perception Stealth, +Perception Health and End recovery/sustain ✔️ No sustain powers Jumping and Speed ✔️ No movement powers Good AoE ✔️ Multiple pets We've reached a point where the contestants are all melee monsters with large defenses, and it makes the checklist end up with the two being very similar, but this eliminates the two Arachnos Agents, who will go on to the bronze match. The finals will be scrapper vs scrapper, hero vs. rogue. Tanking is only half the battle. The other half... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Create an account or sign in to comment
You need to be a member in order to leave a comment
Create an account
Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!
Register a new accountSign in
Already have an account? Sign in here.
Sign In Now