Golden Gate Empire [IC / No Longer Accepting / PG - 16]

[VCR_CAT]

Saul: Cavern of Sirens

 

"His blood is on your hands; and these are the truths of the battle field. If you cannot accept that, THEN YOU ARE NOT READY," Saul roared, bringing his blade down once again for another pillar of flames; however he was too hasty and let his emotions get ahead of himself. Elspire's words cut deeper than Saul's sword had pierced the dragon's skin. " I HAVE A MISSION, AND I WILL DO WHAT IT TAKES TO SURVIVE. DO NOT COMPARE ME TO THAT DEMON." Of course, Saul's haste would be his eventual downfall, as the pillar obscured an Elspire that flew through the flames, quick enough to avoid their searing heat, as his claws pierced deeply into Saul's side, electricity lancing through his body and blood spattering on the stone floor.

 

Elspire landed on the floor some few feet away from Saul, who dropped to one knee as he clutched the deep, large gash that spread from his stomach to his back; blood pouring to the floor. What healing magic Saul possessed would not be enough to undo this damage, and so far it was only enough to keep Saul from dying on the spot. With the added strength, Saul was able to throw one more half-hearted swing at Elspire, yet the once white-hot glaring heat of his sword was reduced to a dull burgundy. In the end, Saul's own hubris had gotten the better of him.

 

Stabling himself with his own blade, Saul's breathing had become ragged.

 

"End it now, and free me from this hell," Saul growled, furious at his own foolishness. All he was working towards was coming to an end right there.

 

 

Dirk Rider: Sahill Cathedral

 

While Morgan was getting up, she managed to put herself in a more compromising position. At this point, Dirk would probably pull out a pair of shades and smirk, but seeing as how he didn't even know if she was 18, Dirk decided against it and crossed his arms.

 

"Hey Babe, I bet you anything I got the fangirls all over this. Too bad fanboys aren't too hot for total b*tches, though. My last girl was pretty hot in the sack, but just totally not worth it," Dirk smirked as Morgan brought up those flaming skulls again. Whatever, no sweat.

 

The first two were easy dodges, and Dirk found himself skidding until he was more face-to-face with a third. However, Dirk simply smiled even wider as the light-axe in his hand grew into a hammer. With a hard swing, Dirk brought his hammer down against the skull's face. This, however, was not the wisest of decisions as the skull exploded on impact, shattering the hammer in a blinding flash of light. Blown backward and landing on his back, Dirk skidding tossed himself onto his feet.

 

"Alright, no more mister nice-Dirk," Dirk mumbled under his breath; smirk promptly wiped from his face. Pulling out the Dust Rider, Dirk wasted no time aiming and firing several shots in Morgan's direction. Most were meant to either be near-misses, or clip less vital parts of the body. As much of a b*tch that she was, he still wasn't 100% comfortable just shooting some kid in the face in the middle of a fight. Still, doesn't mean he couldn't fire a 15 mm explosive round at her feet to give her a good scare.

[LordCowCowCowCowCowCowCowCow]

"I have no idea what you mean by 'sack' but I can assure you that...whoa hey!" The man managed to get out of the way of her attacks and fired back without warning. The bullets grazed her cheek, causing her face to sting as she grimaced, looking away for a moment "You'll PAY for that!"

 

When she looked back up it was to see him aiming yet another shot, which he let fly a moment later. He had the perfect opportunity to finish her right then, but he didn't take it. The shot was lower than a kill shot.

 

Nevertheless Morgan made sure to get out of the way. A large root erupted from the ground beneath her and went up her dress, passing between skin and fabric and lifting her high in the air. She dangled there with a cheeky grin. "Either you're really dumb or really blind, doesn't matter I guess cause the outcome's just the same. Now why don't I end this now?"

 

Channeling her magic, Morgan pumped out a grand total of five new skulls. She thrust her arm forward and they flew at Dirk, encircling him and then rushing towards him. But she wasn't done there. As soon as she released control of those she brought two more into the world and launched them. Finally, while she began panting with exertion, she created one last skull. This one she would keep control of, chasing Dirk for as long as she could, if he managed to dodge all those. "Hey Action-Jim, you're so done for, I'm a bonefied master of magic and I'm not going to let some joke with a gun and a bad haircut get in my way!"

[Mr. Hyde]

 

The battle was over, and Elspire's dragon form had faded as soon as his previous attack was over.  His shoulder was still bleeding, but it wasn't something that needed direct attention.  However, he turned back to his opponent to notice the gaping wound he had inflicted.  Elspire was surprised that he had lasted this long, and even manage to throw in a last ditch effort to defeat his opponent with a searing sword swing.

 

"End it now, and free me from this hell."  Saul's breathing had become rough, if Elspire wasn't going to finish the job, the wounds would surely make him pass out.  Elspire sighed as he walked passed the Titan leaning on his blade.  

 

"I'm not going to kill you Saul...I'm not a monster.  I don't give into the thoughtlessness that is revenge...even if you did kill one of my kin right in front of my face."  Images of him becoming an enraged dragon shown like slideshows through his head.  On top of being naive, he was now a hypocrite.  Maybe both rages were justified, but that wasn't for Elspire to decide.  The crystal dragon that was on the floor had passed by now, and the other dragons were crowded around the corpse.  Their roars had turned to wimpers, and the dead dragon body had become crystalized, and returned to the earth.   Elspire went to pick up the dragon egg, that when lifted, shook in Elspire's arms.  With his back turned to Saul, he smiled.

 

"I guess what gave me the edge is that...I have something to fight for now, Saul.  Something beyond revenge.  Maybe in time, you can find that as well."  He turned his head around to show Saul his smile, a smile filled with hope.  "You're tough right?  So you're probably not going to die from having your side ravaged.  Let's hope these gates lift themselves so we can both hobble out of here."

[VCR_CAT]

Saul: Cavern of Sirens

 

"For one so strong, you are surprisingly weak," Saul growled under his breath; angered that once again he was denied passage into the next life. "If you wish to make it any further in this wretched tournament, boy, you need to be willing to do what you need to do." Saul let out a deep sigh. "I did not slay your kin because I wanted to; I did so because it was a direct threat to my survival, and if I wanted to survive then I need to show you the consequence of urging your kin to battle. Never trust your opponent to be unwilling to do the unthinkable, but more importantly, be willing to do what it takes to win for that you are fighting for."

 

This whole tournament was one disaster after another. All those Saul had slain in the preliminaries; their deaths were for nothing now. And now, the men that had forced Saul in this despicable event would most likely be coming for him as soon as they could, and he needed to make sure he was ready. But more importantly, he could not just let this child walk willingly into the clutches of a man as despicable as Gerald.

 

"And one more thing," Saul spoke. Humans. They were all corrupt; and Gerald was like that of their king; the richest and most powerful. "Never trust those seated on thrones of gold." Even if the men that dragged Saul into this tournament were not influenced by Gerald in some way, Saul knew that Gerald was like the accumulation of Man's sin and the perfect representation of their position: Stolen and undeserved. "Enjoy this victory while you can, but do not let your guard down."

 

Saul stood to his feet; albeit shakily, as he used his own sheathed blade as a crutch. Now was just the issue of getting back to the hotel.

 

 

Dirk Rider: Sahill Cathedral

 

Five skulls was five too many, and gave Dirk no choice but to use his overclocking ability if he wanted to get out of this alive. With a bright aura of gold and his eyes ablaze with a crimson glow, Dirk only smirked back at Morgan.

 

"Hey, it's your funeral, babe."

 

In practically an instant, Dirk was sprinting full tilt; outrunning a massive explosion as all five skulls impacted the ground that he once stood, leaving behind a large, smoldering crater. Weaving to the left, Dirk was able to dodge a sixth skull, but his weave to the right was not quite fast enough. Despite dodging most of the explosion, Dirk was still tossed off of his feet; tumbling into the hard dirt and hitting his head at least once or twice against the ground. Yet, the adrenaline from his overclocking ability was enough to block out the pain. At least for now.

 

Leaping to his feet, Dirk spotted one last skull aiming directly at him. With a smirk, he continued on his full-tilt sprint towards the large vine protruding from the ground. Leaping into the air, Dirk's left hand caught onto the vine, allowing him to swing around and toss himself further up the stalk; finally gripping the plant directly behind Morgan. Pressing the cold barrel of his gun into her back, Dirk leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

 

"Checkmate, b*tch."

 

With the skull flying towards Morgan from the front and Dirk's pistol pressed against her back, things certainly did not look too good from here.

[LordCowCowCowCowCowCowCowCow]

What the f*** is this crazy ass dodging bullshit? Morgan stamped the ground, or rather she would have had their been any ground to stamp, and pouted as the action-star wannabe pulled some moves to avoid most of her skulls. There was one more left and this one would...wait WHAT!?

“How the hell?” She said as the man made his way up her root and pressed a gun to her back. How'd he do that so fast? “Oh great of all the opponent’s I get the juiced up steroid monkey?” As much as she complained there were no ifs ands or buts about it, he had her at a severe disadvantage.
But she still had one last trick up her sleeve.

The skull was hurtling towards her at a rapid pace, set on its path towards the enemy. Which unfortunately would lead it directly to Morgan. But she still had some level of control, and she tilted the thing’s path slightly.
It exploded against the root that was holding them both up, burning it up and destroying a portion of it. As soon as this occurred the root snapped and sent them both towards the ground.

Morgan attempted to grapple with the man. She was not a total slouch in close combat but the adrenaline junky was stronger and she had worn herself out in the battle. She did manage to get a hard knee into his groin. and a couple scratches to the face but that was about it.
As they neared the ground Morgan attempted to use her levitation magic to get away but, as she was fighting gravity and a much heavier person on top of her, all she could do was soften the blow as she landed onto the ground.

Action-Jim landed on top of her, with his knees on either side of her waist and his gun pressed against her chest. “I said...Check...Mate.” He grunted.

Morgan’s body slumped, her head lolled back and her head, now without her signature hat she noticed, hit the ground as she let out a loud sigh. “f***ing bullshit.” She said.

Then she glared at the man above her and spoke in a low voice. “You might have cheated your way to claim my victory but I am going to make SURE the world knows who’s really the best. Your name is gonna be a footnote in some torn and graffitied on history book.”

She spoke up louder then. “But my name? My name is going to be known, feared, and respected for CENTURIES to come. This was just a prologue, my adoring fans, don’t you worry! This world is mine and a little snag like this is not gonna change that. Morgan Reaperson won’t ever let something like this get her down!” She took a breath, gathering her strength and fighting back the bile that rose in her throat. “I...surrender....Now get off me you baboon and help me find my hat.”

[Dad]

Cavern of Sirens

 

The cavern began to cool, slowly, as the metallic walls that had sealed Saul and Elspire inside of the cavern fell.  Saul had admitted defeat, and Elspire had secured his place in the second round of the Secret Cup.  It was but a mere seconds before a resounding explosion occurred outside of the cavern, as Saul's previous helicopter went down to the ground in a fireball of metal.  Fortunately, one chopper remained, and was enough to escort Saul and Elspire back to the hotel.  It arrived some several minutes after Elspire had been declared the victor, touching down just outside of the damp cavern.  And as Elspire departed, the Crystal Dragons pined after him, pleading with him to stay.  Unfortunately, that was impossible, as Elspire reluctantly stepped aboard the helicopter.   Saul boarded immediately behind the boy, taking an opposite seat from him.

 

"Welcome back, sir," the pilot said, directing his comment to Elspire.  "And congratulations on your victory.  ETA to Golden Gate is approximately two hours.  All clear?"

 

"No surrounding obstacles.  We are go for lift-off," responded the co-pilot.  With their chopper in the air, the journey back to the Golden Gate Hotel began.  However, Saul and Elspire would not recall this journey, as they were touched by a malevolent force, putting them into deep, inescapable sleep as their minds were tapped.  The chopper shook, ever so slightly, as the pilot shivered.  "I hate it when they do that!" he whispered.  "It's freakin' creepy."

 

"You can say that again."

 

They clicked their tongues, disappearing from whence they came.

 

 

Sahill Cathedral

 

“I...surrender....Now get off me you baboon and help me find my hat.”

 

It took seconds for those words to register in the ears of the pilots, before they heard a missile scream towards them.  "sheet."  Such unfortunate last words.  The helicopter was downed almost immediately, but its path was directly in line with the cathedral.  The magic that had engulfed the cathedral proceeded to devour the helicopter and its contents as well, confirming the deaths of the pilot and co-pilot inside.  In a clearing just behind Morgan and Dirk, a second helicopter touched down, as the unofficial couple stood up.  Dirk handed Morgan her hat, and she snatched it from him, agitated.  As they climbed aboard the chopper, a final explosion confirmed the fate of the cathedral, as everything above ground began to collapse in wards, spiraling down into the black magic that made up its contents.  The cathedral swallowed itself whole, leaving a gaping pit of earth for miles around.

 

"Welcome back sir, ma'am." The pilots greeted Dirk and Morgan as they boarded the chopper.  "Congratulations on your victory," the co-pilot said solemnly.  "ETA to Golden Gate hotel is approximately one hour and fifteen minutes.  Taking off now.  Buckle up, please."  The pilot flicked a series of switches, and their helicopter began to rise.  A short time later, Dirk and Morgan were in the air, on a brief return to the Golden Gate Hotel.  Dirk, with his place secured in the second round, would find his next round to be a bit more. .  .devilish than his previous.  But for now, Dirk and Morgan would be put into a powerful sleep, their heads suddenly tilting until they rest against one another.  

 

"Who did we lose?" the pilot asked his co-pilot.  The man beside him balled his fist in anger, punching into his leg.  "Jason."

 

"Pulatski?"

 

"Yeah.  Pulatski."

 

"Who was his CP?"

 

"His brother."

 

 

Shan'ri Temple

 

Dim & Sum had been overwhelmed, falling unconscious due to their injuries.  Zyg had given his leg, and his opportunity for advancement, to stopping a common foe between himself and his opponent.  In his surrendering, two helicopters breached the walls that surrounded the Shan'ri temple, one of them spiraling directly at the bodies of Dim & Sum.  The helicopter landed directly atop the brother and sister geese, covering everything in flames.  And as Zyg and Nori would quickly come to realize, the walls surrounding the Shan'ri temple were not actually walls.  They were branches, leaves, trunks, and heavy brush.  The Shan'ri temple was in fact surrounded by the nest that was built by Dim & Sum, and it was quickly catching fire.  The co-pilot stepped out of the helicopter, dashing over to Zyg with two armed guards and a stretcher.  "Get to the helicopter!  We're going to air lift this one out of here!" the co-pilot screamed to Nori over the sounds of the flames.

 

As Nori jumped into the helicopter, it gained slight altitude, hovering over to Zyg, the co-pilot, and the two guards who were assisting him.  Lowering a sky-hook down to the co-pilot, it was attached to the stretcher, and tightened for security.  The guards attached two separate lines to the sky hook, extending them out past the stretcher, with the co-pilot following suit.  "Go, go!  We're hooked!"  The pilot nodded, pulling the helicopter upwards.

 

They were racing against the clock, as the flames began to run up the sides of the nest, closing off their escape route.  And as the nest began to collapse above them, things looked rather grim.  Fortunately, their pilot was incredibly competent, dodging and weaving carefully through the falling debris.  And as they narrowly escaped the burning nest, the co-pilot let out a wail of excitement, as they barely avoided death.  The pilot let out a sigh of relief, as he wiped his brow.  "ETA to Golden Gate, one hour."

 

And in keeping with customs, the co-pilot and guards were forced to watch as Zyg was put into a mindless sleep.  Nori followed suit, also being influenced into a powerful sleep.  One of the guards, who was so frightened by what he was sleeping, nearly slipped from his hook as Zyg was put to sleep.  "sheet!" he cried out, as he held on for his dear life.  

 

 

WARNING.  THE FOLLOWING PROGRAM IS RATED M FOR VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, AND NUDITY.  PARENTAL DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

 

Elspire's full transformation was groundbreaking.  When it was revealed, views doubled, raking in more than ten million additional viewers for the final bout between Elspire Ferdinand and Saul.  The battle erupted into chaos, with Elspire landing a lightning fast first blow.  Saul was slightly deterred, but would not back down easily.  He forced Elspire's hand as he picked on the fragile crystal dragons, but Elspire managed to overcome the obstacle, even sparing Saul's life in the end.  And at Saul's surrender, Elspire's victory had been secured.  It was clear that he was a crowd favorite among the contestants, though this was debatable.  Polls were still strumming in, as popularity contests were being managed.

 

"Text ELSPIRE to GGE to vote for ELSPIRE!"

 

"Text SAUL to GGE to vote for SAUL!"

 

Those were just one of dozens of messages that strummed along the bottom side of the displayed stream as it came to a close.  Meanwhile, the final remnants of the battle between Zyg and Nori were also at their end.  The next captured image was of a great fire, collapsing of over what should have been the Shan'ri temple.  The helicopter carrying the heavy wounded robo-raptor and escorting Nori were last seen returning to the hotel, narrowly escaping an inferno that would have taken their lives.  With the chopper soaring back to the hotel, the second to last stream ended, pushing viewers from one broadcast, to another.

 

In the final battle of the first round, Dirk and Morgan remained standing.  Some incredibly swift moves from Dirk got him into prime positioning, allowing him to take an almost absolute hold on this fight.  However, Morgan was as quick a thinker as she was attractive.  Breaking Dirk's grip, she managed to slip away, only to throw them both back into a scuffle.  But in the end, Dirk's wit and speed proved to be too much for the witch, as she was indeed checkmated with a gun to her chest.  It was at this scene that audiences erupted into cheers, oohs, and awws.  Though a dangerous one, it seemed that Dirk and Morgan was a favorite match-up, but not as a favorite fight.  And as their heads unintentionally nodded together in flight to the hotel, the audiences became totally obsessed with this unfit couple, with memes and "shipping" being drafted over the internet in a wide swept craze.  

 

 

Golden Gate Hotel, Lobby Bar

 

Gerald was extremely pleased.  Others had returned to the hotel, and Fate and Arisu seemed to have happily dragged themselves to the bar.  "At your discretion, my dears.  Take care not to drink too much, however.  Our brews are quite potent," he said with a smile to the duo.  "And, congratulations on your win, Arisu," Gerald said taking a sip of his drink.  As the final matches came to a close, Gerald stood up, giving a standing ovation to the victors.  "Marvelous!" he cheered.  Raising a glass, he tipped it to Tyson, Odette, Arisu, and Fate, before scurrying away.  "I suppose I should get on the horn soon then, shouldn't I?" he joked aloud before vanishing out of the lobby bar.  

 

And appearing at his side was his trusty assistant, Steph.  Stepping out of the shadows, she began giving a report of the day's views world wide.  

 

"Sir," she began, waiting for his approval.

 

"Go ahead dear, I'm listening," he said as they began walking down a concrete hallway.  "Today's views totaled nearly four hundred million.  Your views are up eight percent, and you made grand total of nine hundred and thirty seven million dollars with today's ticket purchases.  This is an increased fourteen percent profit from margin."

 

"Fourteen percent?  Not bad, I suppose.  It's not what I was hoping for, but I suppose we'll have to dive into more drastic measures in the next round."

 

"More drastic, sir?"

 

"Steph.  No formalities, you know this.  And yes, more drastic.  What with Ilgad in the picture, I suppose things were going to ramp up a bit anyway.  We may as well make the next bouts more entertaining than the last."

 

"What did you have in mind, Gerald?" she asked, tucking an electronic tablet under her arm.  

 

"I've a number of things in mind, Steph.  But I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

 

Steph grinned.  She was a big fan of Gerald's surprises, and enjoyed the matches as much as any other viewer had.  "Have the banquet prepared for tonight's celebration.  I'm sure our surviving contestants will be starving after a hard day's fight."

 

"Of course, Gerald.  And what will you be doing at this time?"

 

"I'm going to address our crowd, and begin preparations for the next round.  At this time, I'd like you to also share with our contestants, the Underground P.D.G.  I'm sure they'll enjoy it.  Perhaps, after the banquet."

 

"Sir, I always thought that was your personal play ground."

 

"Personal?  Oh no, dear.  In fact, I'm thinking of opening it to the public."

 

Steph's grin didn't fade.  She always knew in her heart that Gerald was a man of integrity, honesty, and--what was that terrible feeling suddenly in the back of her head?

 

"Steph?  Steph, dear, are you alright?"

 

She shook her head, snapping back into her senses.  "Yes, sir, sorry about that.  I'm looking forward to this!" she said cheerfully.

 

"Wonderful!" Gerald said standing on his tip-toes.  "Once the last of our contestants have returned to the hotel, notify them of the celebratory banquet.  Every contestant is invited, and the event is formal.  So have them to dress their best!"

 

"Right away, sir," Steph said as she disappeared behind Gerald.  He walked through the multi-lock passage way, and onto the octagonal platform that he stood on just a day prior, and cranked a handle, as he prepared to give a brief announcement.

 

---

 

[spoiler=Please Read]

 

With this post, round 1 has come to an end!  Congrats on making it this far, and thanks from me to you for sticking with me.

 

At this time, you may arrive back at the hotel if you are traveling.  You've been cordially invited to a formal celebratory banquet in the North Tower of the Golden Gate Hotel, in the banquet hall.  The event is formal, so have your characters dress their best.  As soon as we have everyone in the banquet hall, you'll be free to dine, make toasts, and the like.  Shortly thereafter, I'll give you details about the "P.G.D.", which I'm hoping you'll all enjoy.  Stay tuned!

 

[VCR_CAT]

Dirk Rider: Golden Gate Hotel

 

"-Ake up, Dirk, we've arrived," a voice rang out as Dirk's eyes snapped open. Did he fall asleep? What happened? Unbuckling and springing to his feet, Dirk jumped out of the helicopter; Morgan falling over into Dirk's seat as he did so. Not that he noticed, anyways. "All contestants are invited to a banquet happening very shortly; It's a formal event so it's strongly suggested you dress nicely for the cameras." The man speaking was a hotel worker on the helipad currently.

 

"Will there be booze?" Dirk asked as he brushed off his coat.

 

"There will, indeed, be an open bar, sir."

 

"Groovy. Make sure they're ready for me."

 

"Sir?"

 

"See you all at the banquet!"

 

Dirk strolled confidently into one of the elevators; ignoring what Morgan was saying entirely (he was pretty sure that was her yelling in the background). Everything smelled so much better; the halls, the carpets, even the ash trays and the garbage bins. Everything felt so much better now that Dirk was out of that stupid, fake cathedral. And now, to cap off a good day, a huge meal and the opportunity to get drunker than drunk on the booziest of boozes.

 

Practically kicking down his room's door, Dirk immediately jumped into the shower, tossing his clothes into a laundry basket. Getting ready took quite a bit of time; first Dirk had to scrub off the smell of rotting bones, then he had to dry off and change into a suit that he found in the closet (properly tailored, too!), and finally he had to get his hair fixed up right again. That part took the longest out of all of them.

 

"Nice," Dirk complemented himself as he checked out how he looked in the mirror. Not bad; he'd probably have a bunch of fan-girls crooning over him at the banquet, so he had to make sure he looked his sharpest for them.

 

Leaving his room, Dirk slammed his door behind him. "LET'S GET DRUNK!" Dirk announced loudly in the hall as he entered the elevator and made his way towards the banquet hall.

 

 

Saul: Golden Gate Hotel

 

Saul remained quiet as he woke from the helicopter; ignoring the servants, the pilots, and Elspire. He entered one of the elevators alone, and made his way to the room he had below. Medical staff swarmed as he left the elevator, but Saul trudged past them with long strides.

 

"Saul, sir, you're invited to a banquet down belo--"

 

"I'm not going," Saul replied gravely, as he approached his room.

 

"Master Gerald insists you show yourself for the banquet.

 

Saul stopped in the middle of the hallway; turning to face the medical staff. "I'm not. Going." He put very firmly. The medical staff looked very nervous.

 

"A-at least let us clean up your wou-"

 

"I'll do it myself. Goodnight." Saul walked into his room, and slammed the door shut behind him. He was a mess; covered in soot, dirt, sweat, and a lot of blood. The smell was definitely pungent, and Saul needed to do something about it. Letting out a long sigh, he ented the shower and kept it on the cold settings; neglecting to use any of the additional luxuries the shower provided. He gritted his teeth strongly as the cold water ran past the long, jagged cut that ran from the middle of stomach all the way to his back. The water at the bottom of the shower ran a deep, brownish-red as the blood mixed with the dirt and soot. The only luxuries Saul allowed himself was some of the hair-care product. Cleaning his long hair was the largest chore he had ever had to accomplish. During his hermitage in Tebit, he had only used a rough soap that the monks had provided. It made him clean, but had no real fragrance and did nothing to his hair. Now, he could feel a sea of knots undoing themselves as he ran his fingers through it.

 

Once clean, Saul took the time to bandage his own wound; running a very long strip of clothe around his waste and taped it down tight with supplies from a first-aid container in the hotel room. Already the bandages were beginning to turn red.

 

Glancing over, Saul spotted an open closet with a large outfit hanging in there, with a note.

 

We understand your prejudice towards our culture, and hope that the make and fashion are both accurate despite what limited references we had to work with. We hope tha--

 

Saul crumpled the note in his fist and looked over the outfit. It was a close duplication of a traditional, formal attire worn by warriors in Jotunheim. It was a warrior's tunic, in a bright crimson color with a gold sash across the chest held in place with a bright broach. Along with the tunic were leather arm-guards, finely crafted, with equally well-made leather boots. The tunic was an insult; surely it would stand out like a sore thumb among the other banquet goers. Saul ignored the tunic; opting to seat himself in the middle of his room and repair his personal robe instead. Not that he intended to go to the banquet, anyways.

 

 

Dirk Rider: Golden Gate Hotel ; Banquet Hall

 

"Alright, gimme something hard! I want to get the celebration started off right," Dirk told the bartender, resting his elbow against the bar's counter, looking around the banquet hall as everyone started to arrive. The bartender slid a shot glass with a deep amber liquid. Dirk through the drink to the back of his throat; the burning sensation of the alcohol running all the way down. A minute later, a rather stunning lady sat down in the bar stool next to Dirk and asked for a drink.

 

"Hey there babe, didya like seein' me in action on the big screen?" Dirk as the lady, turning to face her.

 

"Oh, you're Dirk Rider! Yeah, all my friends were talking about you!" The woman responded excitedly. Dirk smiled.

 

"I know I know, it was pretty intense. And what's your name?"

 

"Melony; pleased to meet you in-person. Now tell me, did you meet up with her after the fight?"

 

Dirk gave her a puzzled look.

 

"You know... her? Did you guys get together right away? I gotta know!"

 

"Who are you talking about?" Dirk wracked his mind. Did he miss something.

 

"You haven't see-- Oh, where are my manners, here!" Melony handed Dirk her phone, with a web-page full of photos of Dirk and Morgan with different captions in Impact font splayed on each. Dirk scrolled through each with an increasingly more and more confused and distraught expression on his face.

 

"Yeah, my friends and I are SOOO excited! Are you guys, like, going to get together soon? Did Morgan let you win, or were you guys not sure who was going to win? When you guys were fighting that mad king dude, I could just tell you two would be the PERFECT MATCH--"

 

Melony kept on talking as Dirk's face was wrought with panic. "This can't be happening," he muttered to himself. "Bartender, when did these get posted?!" Dirk asked the bartender, interrupting Melony.

 

"Pretty much right after your fight finished, bud. It went pre-tty viral right away; people EVERYWHERE are shipping you two!"

 

"SHIPPING!?"

 

"Yeah, you're already trumping Hollywood's biggest couples with all the clicks you're drawing. Everyone's crazy about i-"

 

"Oh my god, PLEASE shut up," Dirk told the bartender, "And give me the hardest thing you got, Right. NOW."

 

The bartender slid another similar drink, that Dirk began to chug right away, sliding the phone back to the other woman, and turning around to leave the bar immediately. This can't be happening, his life as a bachelor was over!!

[LordCowCowCowCowCowCowCowCow]

Morgan woke with a start, after faceplanting into the seat. She looked around with a confused expression before settling on the pilot. "You! What the hell did you do? I don't remember sleeping did you put something in my drink or something?"
"Ma'am calm down...You didn't even have a dri"

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN YOU LITTLE b****! LISTEN UP AND LISTEN WELL CAUSE YOU PISSED OFF THE WRONG GIRL"

Her ranting went on for the next twenty minutes, at the end of which the pilot was in such a state of shock that Morgan's words were no longer registering.

 

Once she realized she was talking to what was essentially a vegetable, she let out a "Hmph" and got out of the helicopter, tossing her hair as she stared down the nervous looking man who was there to greet her.

"A-all contestants, even loser....er those who so bravely fought but didn't win, are invited to a banquet; It's, well it's a formal event so it's strongly suggested...if you don't mind of course, that you dress nicely for the cameras."

 

"I...did you say cameras?" Morgan gave a grin and patted the man on the shoulder. "Thank you ever so much" she said before strolling off to her room. She might have lost the fight but she wasn't about to say no to a bit of publicity and a night of fun.

 

---

 

Morgan took quite some time picking out a dress, from the dozens of dresses she had made sure to have brought to her room. She didn't have the money for any of them but she was sure she could borrow some from her father, or failing that some poor unsuspecting fool. She finally settled on a nice electric blue number and pulled it on. After she put on the most expensive necklace she owned. She then grabbed one of her thirteen identical witch's hat and placed it on her head. She gave herself a dazzling smile in the mirror and gave a twirl. "Perfect, of course." She said and then headed to the North Tower.

 

---

 

Morgan arrived at the party, being carried on a litter held up by four star-struck and burly men. She had them bring her to the bar and then levitated off of it and onto the floor.

She really needed a new broom, but this worked quite well. She shooed the men off as she landed. "You may go now, go on and have some fun boys." She blew them a kiss and then turned to the barkeep. "I'd like a pumpkin pie shake." she said. The man looked confused and surprised by the request and Morgan frowned. "Did I stutter? No, good, hop to it before I burn this bar down."

The barkeep nodded rapidly and went off to make her the drink she asked. She could hear him speaking into a phone in a hushed but panicked voice, clearly trying to inquire if they had the necessary ingredients. Morgan knew they didn't, she had called down earlier to check if they had, but she enjoyed watching the man squirm.

 

"Kyaa look it's her it's her."
"It really is, it's Morgan."

"Do you think she knows he's here?"
"Of couse she does you idiot they're in LOVE."

 

Morgan was smiling at the attention her entrance had caused, though, something felt...off. Who was he? The only male she remembered the name of was Zyg. The witch briefly wondered where that raptor was, she had to see if he had made it through.

Finally a pair of brave souls approached the girl and that's when she found out the news. The horrible, twisted, disgusting news. "E-excuse me?" She stammered. Shipping? With...with THAT? No no, no, nononono. That was not acceptable. She would find whoever spread these rumors and....wait.

 

Shipping was extremely popular. People adored couples, though Morgan didn't really see the appeal. This could work. But she had to be careful, didn't want her male fans to lose hope after all. "I'm sorry I don't know what you're talking about." She said coyishly. "But, I do wonder? Where exactly IS Action...er, Dirk?" The girls in front of her practically exploded in excitement and ushered her towards the disgusting man. "Hello there, Dirk" Morgan said. She managed to sound friendly, but her eyes, which only the one she was looking at could see clearly, showed her contempt. "You look.......nice."

[Mr. Hyde]

 

Zyg had awoken, he somehow didn't remember falling asleep.  The last thing that he remembered was surrendering to Nori at the temple and being lifted by a helicopter.  After that, it was all black.  As the fuzziness had cleared, Zyg found himself on a bed in a completely white room.  Zyg started to struggle, but realized he was restrained to his bed.  He started yelping frantically.  This was exactly how he woke up there....and half of his body was gone.  Scientists dawned with lab coats flooded the room as they tried to calm the ferocious reptile.  

 

"Zyg 0001, we have good news!  We were able to fix your leg to the exact standard it was before.  The materials were hard to come by, but we managed to fix it good as new!"  

 

As Zyg's cries had become quieter and less frequent, he had realized that he was able to move his leg that had been destroyed on the battlefield.  He was glad that this wasn't all just a dream and that he hadn't woken up back in that facility.  Chills ran down his spine to the tip of his tail just thinking about it.  He had finally calmed down and nodded.  

 

"Thank you doctor...I'm glad that I was worth saving."

 

The doctor cleared his throat.  "I've also been told to inform you about a banquet that's being held in the North Tower's banquet hall!  Your attire should be formal for the occasion."  He eyed the cyborg dinosaur and then sighed.  "But in your case...I guess nudity is your best option."

 

Zyg made a sound that sounded like a type of laugh, but it was mixed with dinosaur noises.  "I've always considered these mechanical limbs to be some sort of leg wear anyways.  Give Gerald my regards for attending 'nude'."  As Zyg's laughing died down, he was also curious to see who had made it through to the second round.  All those faces he had seen before, would there be some missing from the crowd?  What a sad thought...and here Zyg was only formally knowing one of them.  "Excuse me doctor...but can I be released from these quarters to attend this event?"

 

---

 

The crowds had gathered in the North Tower, and the banquet hall was filled with guests of the highest esteem.  As Zyg trekked through the masses, people made sure to steer clear out of his way.  How sad...they judged him before he had gotten to partake in some highly intellectual conversations.  It was true that they must have been intimidated, and he didn't blame them.  He couldn't help but look over his shoulder from time to time either.  He was suspicious of United States government agents capturing him.  After all, he was just on national television.  Perhaps intervening in the government's plans was also part of Gerald's hospitality.  

 

A face popped into his head, the girl with the short black dress and pretty hair.  "Morgan!"  he yelped.  He had seen her amongst a crowd of girls and standing next to some cheesy looking man.  He strutted up to her and started making raptor clicks.  "Morgan my friend, it has been a time and a half since i've seen you!  I'm glad you're alive!  How did things go?"  His tail was wagging with excitement.  The crowd of girls had also stepped back in fear of getting whacked by the metallic rod, and also a giant vicious reptile.  

 

"Is that Zyg?"

"He's kinda cute for a lizard...like puppy cute you know?"  

"Aww is he like Morgan's pet?"

 

Pet?  No...Zyg was much more than a pet.  He snapped his teeth at the girls.  "No...I am not a pet.  I am her friend!"  Zyg showed his teeth, he wasn't capable of smiling, so he tried to imitate a smile as best he could.  

 

 

 

 

The helicopter ride back had been silent.  It was so awkward that the guy he had knocked out of the tournament was right across from him, and he was just holding his egg in a cold sweat.  He tried to break the silence many times, but all that came out of his throat were awkward coughs.  When they landed on the helipad, Saul took no time in exiting the chopper.  Elspire couldn't wait to get out of it either, but he got off after the titan had made his way back into the elevator.  

 

"Oh Elspire sir, in honor of the completion of the first round there is a feast in the North Tower's banquet hall.  Formal attire is suggested if you are attending."

 

Elspire smiled as he entered the elevator.  "Thanks for the heads up!  I'll be sure to make an appearance!"

 

He had finally gotten back to his room.  He hadn't thought to bring a suit, but luckily one was hung up in the corner.  It was a plain tuxedo, but sharp nonetheless.  Elspire changed from his button down shirt and shorts into the tux.  He looked in the mirror and smiled.  If only his mother could see him looking this nice.  He gathered the blankets that rested on his bed and swirled them into a nest of sorts.  He then placed the egg obtained from the cavern in a hole in the middle.  "Just like mom used to make for me...rest up little guy, see you soon!"  Elspire tucked the egg in a little farther into the blanket nest, and exited his room.  

 

---

 

Elspire was almost overrun with fan girls at the banquet hall.  He was afraid that they were going to rip the clothes off his back and that he'd have to pay back Gerald every penny.  He did his best to avoid them, but they all gave chase.  "Why are girls so crazy!  Mom, you never taught me how to deal with normal girls!"

 

The light bulb clicked in his head and he made a mad dash for the men's room.  "Excuse me girls!  I need privacy to..uhm...wash up for you?"  The girls all sighed.  They departed from the door and Elspire gave a sigh of relief.  The question was now what he was supposed to do.  He really didn't know anybody else in the competition besides Saul.  Chances were that he wasn't showing up to this shindig either.  Elspire opened the restroom door slowly, and tried his best to sneak around the girls showing each other pictures of a blurry Elspire.  

 

As he shimmied his way over to the bar, the bartender rose an eyebrow.  Elspire's face was half hidden by the bar top, and it made him laugh.  "What can I get for you sir?"

 

"One mineral water sir!"  The bartender nodded and handed Elspire a fancy looking water bottle.  

 

"Taken from the springs of the Crystal Cavern!"  Elspire almost choked on the water he was chugging down.  Next thing they were going to tell him was that there was deep fried siren on the menu.  

[Maeriberii Haan]

---

 

 

 

"So uh...why did I spared her anyway?"

 

Getting dressed in her room with the suit she just bought earlier, Arisu reminiscence a bit about the events of her battle. Earlier, she had went on a quick shopping trip not long after Gerald announced about the banquet that would be held for the survivors of the first round. Of course, she went on a quick trip to the bathroom first to kill herself first since she's a bit too intoxicated. After finishing that and disposing the body, she went on the trip and restocked her weapons, this time buying more smokescreen and flashbang grenades, and settling with a light machine gun this time instead of a submachine gun, complete with a state-of-the-art tracking system. A bit weird for her to be relying on something like that as a magician, but these tend to do its job well. Though, as a safety measure, she also bought a grenade launcher because why the hell not. However, what was more important that after she bought her weapon (and somehow managing to avoid being suspicious) she went on a boutique and bought herself a nice suit. Nothing too extravagant, but it looked nice enough on her since she's not too keen on dresses. And speaking of dresses, she also ended up buying one for Fate since she thought she promised that she'd buy that stripper some decent clothing. After giving it to her Arisu returned to her room, though she still had no idea whether Fate would join her in the banquet or not.

 

And that returns us to what's happening currently.

 

"Sigh...of all things I'm weak to...it's little kids huh? That's hilarious."

 

The blue-haired woman shook her head. Though, then again, she was not that interested in killing in the first place for the tournament. She's here to learn first and foremost. She couldn't care less about Gerald or the entirely fishy way the tournament was run, or whether she'd get the money prize or not. She's here to find the secrets of the world, brought here to the tournament. As the world moved forward, her interest was to fill the gaps of the past, knowing everything about everything hidden under the tide of history. Intelligent races, artifacts, new kind of magic, such was her pursuit.

 

Granted, even she realized that she's getting less and less focused on the goal as the tournament went on. Her pride simply kept her from taking things easy and she's pretty much fighting for the sake of not losing and be better than everyone else now. Not that there's anything wrong with that since she's inherently far better than anyone here by default by being the goodness gracious Arisu Itakura, but it did end with with her going for overkill way too much of the time while she'd normally prefer something less wasteful so she could still at the very least learn something about her opponent or their corpse if that's not applicable. Maybe she's also often get carried way too much with her emotions too, which would be an issue.

 

Or maybe she's just getting insane. Or maybe that's already the case.

 

That would be a more entertaining explanation.

 

Either way she had spared Fate and she had kinda took a liking on her. That had happened so well, no use in thinking about it. She still going to borrow or steal the girl's scissor sooner or later to study its properties more later, but for now there's a banquet she had to attend.

 

 

"After you know everything, what then?"

 

 

"What...then? Eeh, why would I think of something that won't happen until millenias from now?"

 

Sitting alone at the corner of the room, Arisu watched the others on the room doing their own thing. From the admittedly really handsome blond guy with odd magical signature that got swamped with fangirls, to the inferior witch and her (maybe pet?) raptor that had disappointed Arisu greatly the previous day but she had kind of gotten over it now. The witch seemed to be talking to the guy that reek of 90s affectionately. Would that be considered as under- Arisu decided to not think about it more since she had a chance of being a hypocrite.

Arisu was of course, alone and not noticed by anyone so far. She's one of the least likely person on the tournament right now that would have a lot of fans, and she'd even be lucky if she even had one due to her style in the tournament not being entertaining in the first place. Not like she cares. Being alone like this was better.

 

While waiting for the banquet to properly start, Arisu considered to try drinking again, but stopped herself at the last second. As she had experienced firsthand earlier, her alcohol tolerance was abysmal, and thus she'd rather not kill herself for the fourth time that day. A running joke stops being funny after it's been repeated way too much times anyway.

 

---

 

 

 

 

"Tch, that stupid boy..."

 

There's no reason for him to regret what had happened. As much as he didn't actually intend to kill Camille until he ran through his blade during his final charge, that already happened. There's no reason for him to mull about this for longer. That boy's dead. Dead like millions of other humans Nero had seen during his long life.

 

No remorse, just keep moving forward. No need for pity, just keep on moving forward.

 

He said those words earlier to the boy. Why he would break his own words? No reason to. That'd make him a hypocrite. What he could do now is to continue on his way. Continue on his attempt to prove the existence of humanity's willpower. Continue on...

 

"Ugh..."

 

Not now.

 

Stopping himself from mumbling more about things that he still had no answers for, Nero decided to just go to the banquet now, even if his leg hadn't healed at all yet from the earlier battle.

 

---

[VCR_CAT]

Dirk Rider: Golden Gate Hotel

 

As Dirk turned around, he seemed to bump immediately into Morgan. If he didn't know who she was, he'd fine with being shipped with someone in a dress like that; but he knew Morgan, and he knew that the compliment and nice tone were both far scarier than anything she had ever said or done in the cathedral. Since when is someone being nice an intimidating and scary thing?!

 

"Oh god, what have I gotten myself into," Dirk muttered to himself, but then immediately cleared his throat and returned Morgan's spiteful gaze with a very uncomfortable one and nervous look himself. Morgan was surrounded by a lot of fangirls; several of which with phones out already, recording the interaction with hopeful glimmers in their eyes. Great, now he couldn't just brush her off or insult or something. That would be hilarious. "You a-also look very beautiful, Morgan," Dirk returned the compliment with an awkward grimace. Even better, now he couldn't be smooth to the last person in the room he wanted to be smooth to. He'd rather put the moves on Gerald right now than this raving lunatic.

 

"Sorry about the whole gun-thing, I hope we have no hard feelings after the match," Dirk continued, glancing off to each side for a way to get away; meanwhile changing his gaze back to Morgan back to one of equal remorse. Of course, it was beginning to dawn on Dirk that if she hated this, that he could probably use that to make her life at the hotel a living hell, and Dirk was beginning to enjoy this thought. Too bad he wouldn't be a bachelor anymore.

 

Of course, then the thought of the burning skulls returned to Dirk's memory, and that idea was immediately flushed down the toilet. Of course, the dinosaur was here now, so hopefully now Dirk would get the opportunity to run away.

[Yui]

---

"I'll get him back one of these days," Noya swore to herself for maybe the twentieth time since getting back to the hotel.  Whether she meant the boy she'd fought and lost to or the man that had arranged this whole mess in the first place was just as unknown to her as any creeps who may have heard her.  The first thing she did upon her return was go to her room and take a long hot shower.  She only just now really felt clean again.  But she was alive, and that was probably what mattered most.  No immense cash prize for her to clean up her past though, it would seem.  Well, if she had to do it herself, so be it.

 

For now though, there were other matters to attend to...

"A banquet?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," the gentleman at Noya's door answered.  A nice-looking fellow probably closing in on his fifties, and one of the hotel employees.  Noya woke up in her hotel room and not much later, this guy was at the door telling her about a formal banquet to celebrate the first round.  Hosted by that maniacal geezer, no doubt.  But, Noya would end up attending anyway.  She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her, and maybe that Robert boy would be there.  She wasn't done with him quite yet.

 

"I'll be there."

And that was how Noya wound up in this situation.  Turning the knobs to stop the water of her shower, Noya stepped out and wrapped her body with a towel to cover herself with.  It was a formal banquet, right?  Noya would have to dress up all fancy and stuff for it.  Ew.  Although, if there were one advantage to being a psychic as powerful as she, it was that there was no need to worry about a lack of jewelry.  Real gold, too.  All the posers with their fake sheet could shove it.  Naturally, she'd bring as much as she could.  Then there was the problem of what else to wear.  Noya wasn't big on skirts or dresses as a general rule of thumb.  If anyone ever got a clear look at her underwear because she wore something like that, Noya would see to it that the perv would never see again.

 

It would have to be a suit then.  Those were more her thing anyway.  And in her own opinion, the best color of a suit to compliment gold jewelry had to be white.  At least from her perspective, gold and white together just had a sort of majestic look that made even somebody with crap roots like Noya look rich and super-formal.  So a white suit then.  She had such a suit, right?

 

After drying herself off and entering the room proper to look in the closet, Noya confirmed she indeed had such a suit.  Oh yes, this would look good.

Well, it could be worse.  Noya's suit fit her well, the food wasn't bad, and so far nobody had pissed her off.  No food though.  Apparently she'd have to wait for that.  For now, she carried a glass of punch just off to her left - telekinesis was awful convenient - as she sat more off to the side and took a look at stuff going on.  When suddenly somebody sat down next to her.  Somebody she'd never seen.  A spectator?

 

"I saw your fight," the girl next to her said.  She had this expression on her face like she really admired Noya.  Shame for her; this girl probably wasn't Noya's type.

 

"It's nothing to be proud of.  I should've been able to take on one boy."

 

"I liked the part where he held you while you were unconscious, like you were a couple or something!"

 

"He did WHAT!?"  The glass hovering by Noya's side suddenly shattered, and only because of quick reactions and a bit of luck was Noya able to send the pieces and punch off into a nearby corner and keep it off her suit.  She could feel heat rushing to her face, but didn't really care at the moment; there was a bigger problem.  Directing her very angry, very red face to the girl next to her, Noya barked "We're nothing like that!  And we won't ever be if he's going to do creepy stuff like that to a girl he just met!  Got it!?"

 

She seemed to have scared the girl off.  Noya didn't blame her.  There were probably still people scared of psychics.  Maybe somebody had a big accident involving a psychic, or were just raised that way, or simply didn't know any better.  Whatever the cause, the girl had left.  Fine by her; she didn't want people calling her and Robert a couple.  That was disgusting.  It was preposterous.  It was idiotic.  It was...

 

Noya needed more punch.  And a new glass.

[LordCowCowCowCowCowCowCowCow]

 "You a-also look very beautiful, Morgan,"
“I know.” Morgan said with a radiant smile and a tittering laugh. She was used to this, this was more like it. He looked clearly uncomfortable, and maybe not entirely heart-felt in his otherwise true compliment, but she was still in her element. Morgan had him exactly where she wanted him, he’d be a perfect vessel to store her ambitions in, for now. She would of course be on the lookout for any others but this was a start.

"Sorry about the whole gun-thing, I hope we have no hard feelings after the match,"

“Of course not, we did what had to be done after all.” She took a step closer, standing on her tip-toes to whisper into his ear. “Good luck with your next match, I really hope you win.” She backed away and gave a wink. This felt good, she could tell this was the perfect revenge. Plus the more he thought she had an interest the better chance she had of taking him for everything he owned if he won this thing.
Plus it would make her that much more popular. Morgan could be a jabroni, yes, Morgan was spoiled, of course she deserved it all, but she was smart. She knew what people liked and this wasn’t the time for snark. The spider was creeping ever closer to Dirk’s heart and soon she would snare it and gobble it up.

 "Morgan my friend, it has been a time and a half since i've seen you!  I'm glad you're alive!  How did things go?"

And right on cue the first one she had talked to in this tournament came up. He seemed happy to see her, as he should, there was no one more entertaining to be around than Morgan. It was sort of amusing that he denied being her pet, seeing as that’s exactly what she desired from the strangely cute dinosaur. She reached up and patted him on the snout. “Ziggy! It’s good to see you, I was wondering when you'd show up.” She frowned and put on a heartrendingly sad face. “Sorry to say that I didn’t make it through, Dirk just was too much for me...in combat. But enough about me,” She said, having to keep herself from snorting. There was no such thing as enough of her.
“How did you do? I saw the barbaric looking woman that you were facing, she didn’t hurt you, did she?”

Morgan glanced around, looking for the other tournament contestants. The blonde boy was currently avoiding fangirls, hmm, fangirls, he would be a solid pick for her next target if it came down to it.
The magical lady that Morgan swore she felt something familiar about. She didn’t like the look she gave Morgan, probably jealous, but it might be good to find out what this strange familiarity was before the night was through.
The others she couldn’t spot, or didn’t recognize, so she focused once more on the dinosaur in front of her. She gave him a genuine smile as she waited for his response.

[Hälō]

Tyson Slayer/Mephisto

 

"Hm, well that's pretty convenient actually." Tyson's mumbled to himself after inspecting the box of ammunition and the new trench coat that had been left on his bed in the hotel room. "A little weird how they new exactly what size I was..."

 

​"- and that you have your garments tapered at the arms and shoulder to make yourself appear more imposing..." Mephisto chimed in after what had now been roughly two hours of demonic radio silence.

 

"Up yours..." Tyson rolled his eyes, as he peeled off his bloody clothing and tossed the pile of torn rags into in the far corner of the room. Stepping into massive shower that the hotel had provided, the man couldn't help sigh with relief as the warm water came pouring down from the sacrilegiously expensive shower-head. He had begun contemplating exactly what he'd be wearing for the banquette tonight, when an image of Gerald creeped into his mind, causing an uneasy feeling to wash over him. "The old-man... what's his deal?"

 

"So you sensed it too." Mephisto replied almost immediately as if he was waiting for such a question. "To be frank, I'm not sure myself, Ripper..." The demon's response caused Tyson's eye to narrow slightly as he stepped out of the shower. Forgoing a towel, the man strode towards the bedroom casually, allowing the excess water to simply evaporate due the heat that his body seemed to always be giving off. "All I know for sure is that there are forces at work here that transcend any that you've faced before, and that if the likes of Ilgad have a hand in this..."

 

"Il-what?" Tyson grunted as he tossed another article of clothing out of his suitcase in frustration; he really hadn't intended to be going to a dinner party in the middle of the death battle tournament, and it's not like suit shopping was high on his list of things to do after raising from the grave. "We'll figure it out as we go. For now... what the hell are we going to wear to this thing?!"

 

Though it may have appeared that Tyson had completely disregarded his warning, Mephisto could sense that the man understood the potential gravity of the situation, and was maintaining the illusion of ignorance that he always seemed to be presenting to the outside world. In that moment, the demon couldn't help but wonder how many creatures had lost their lives because they couldn't see through the hunter's ruse. "Hm, that much is simple." The demon punctuated his sentence by causing Tyson's body to erupt into hellfire.

 

"Hey, wha-" Tyson never bothered to finish his sentence, as his attention was suddenly grabbed by the suit that had begun to manifest itself from the unearthly flames. When the fabric had completely formed, and the fires sizzled out into a small cloud of black smoke, the man could only stand in the mirror with a large toothy grin as inspected Mephisto's handy work.

 

"We look pretty good!"

 

"The cloth is weaved from the souls of the victims of the Spanish inquisition. The shoes were formed from the hatred gathered from the soldiers of small army in the southern hemisphere of your planet... I gathered each and every one of the materials personally, and had this piece designed by the pit's most skilled craftsmen; It is be far my favorite suit." Mephisto's voice oozed pride. "We don't look good, Ripper. We look elegantly evil."

 

"With all that effort, you'd think you could've had them make you some underwear..." Tyson chuckled as he adjusted the demon's suit. Even with his own limited supernatural senses, the man could feel the evil literal oozing off every inch of the fabric, and that wasn't just because he was being forced to go commando. "Welp, let's get down there before all the booze is gone."

 

 

 

"Oh are you that guy from that thing? What was your name again..."

 

"Yo Tyson! My man, can I get a picture?! My girl loves you..."

 

"Is that the gun you used in the fight today??? How much?! I NEED that for my collection"

 

"Vampires are people too, you a******!"

 

"Hey there handsome. Is there a Mrs. Ripper?"

 

 

"Tyson. Sure, but I don't do selfies. Not for sale. f*** you. Room number is 667..." Tyson did his best to handle his fans as he stood by the banquet's open bar. Honestly, he should've probably been counting his blessings; the man had noticed a couple of the other contestants being hounded by their own packs of fan-girls and shippers earlier, and by comparison, his fan's were a lot more tame.

 

"Big turn out." Glancing around the room, Tyson noticed that for the most part, everyone had survived the first round. It was then that his gaze fell on Elspire at the far end of the bar, and he decided to join the young-man for a drink. "Hey, how'd your fight go?" He greeted the boy with a nod as he placed his hand on the counter. Motioning for the bartender to come over, he then spotted the 90's action star with the pompadour standing with the little witch and the raptor. The other man's face screamed "get me out of here", and Tyson couldn't help but throw the poor sap a bone. "Yo, come grab a drink with the guys!" He called over to the blonde.

 

[Cosmo.]

"Oh, a banquet, how lovely!" Odette said while returning to her room. She removed the clothing and made sure no one was watching like this morning, and then went for a shower. The hot water and the steam rising from it made Odette forget about all the fatigues of the day. Despite, well, not killing anyone, and her opponent dying because of unknown reasons, the day was still quite heavy. She turned off the shower, and started getting dressed. "Oh, what's that?" She said noticing something on her bed. It was a white formal dress, very simple, and her size. "Hm, how boring, i think i can improve it!" She said. With a clap of her hands, the dress changes, as a big portion of it now, instead of being white, showed space. But not a boring galaxy print, no, actual space. "That's better" She said with a smile.

 

 

She arrived at the banquet, and as soon as she entered, she was overrun by fans.

 

"Mrs. Odette we love you!"

        "I want your autograph!"

 

"Please sign me this picture!"

                                                

 

                                                    "We love you Mrs. Odette!!"

 

"Oh, don't worry everyone, each one of you, will get what they want" She said while signing all the various t-shirts, pictures or just taking photos with the fans. Other contestants were already there, including the guy who looked straight out of a 90s cartoon, the witch, the dinosaur, and Tyson. All where in very fancy outfits, but nothing could compare to hers. "There's nothing a little elven magic can't do!" she thought to herself. The Eye of Gaea was orbiting around her, looking like a satellite. Odette decided to approach the witch for a conversation.

 

The witch was already talking with her dinosaur friend, quite a odd duo. "Sorry for the interruption, you're Morgan, aren't you? I wanna congratulate you for the battle, despite not winning, it was incredible. Oh and you must be Zyg, right? It's a pleasure to meet both of you, i'm Odette."

[Mr. Hyde]

 

“Ziggy! It’s good to see you, I was wondering when you'd show up.” Her face had turned sour, showing disappointment.  “Sorry to say that I didn’t make it through, Dirk just was too much for me...in combat. But enough about me, how did you do? I saw the barbaric looking woman that you were facing, she didn’t hurt you, did she?"

 

Zyg's head hung a little low.  "I lost as well...Though she wasn't the one to injure me, i'm sure if the battle had lasted any longer I would've lost a few more limbs alongside my leg."  Zyg lifted his left leg and wiggled it around a bit.  The mechanisms inside made their usual sounds.  "This leg right here was destroyed due to environmental hazards.  However, the hotel staff was able to fix it up good as new."  Part of him wished that they hadn't fixed it.  One part of his past that wouldn't come back.  But alas...these mechanical limbs would always haunt him.  A small voice came from the side, snapping Zyg out of his stupor.

 

 "Sorry for the interruption, you're Morgan, aren't you? I wanna congratulate you for the battle, despite not winning, it was incredible. Oh and you must be Zyg, right? It's a pleasure to meet both of you, i'm Odette."

 

Strange, Zyg didn't remember handing this woman his name.  He guessed that word of a giant dinosaur named Zyg would spread across the hotel and it's competitors.  "Well hello there Odette.  How did you fare in this competition?  As you might be able to tell by our slightly glum expressions, we lost our matches."  He wondered what she was all about.  After all, up to this point, Zyg had only interacted with Morgan up until now.  

 

 

 

 

"Hey, how'd your fight go?"  The sudden voice and slap on the counter had shook Elspire.  Was this one of the competitors?  Of course it was, the nature of the question was too casual for it not to be.  Managing to clear his throat after choking on his mineral water yet again, Elspire wiped the residue from his mouth.

 

"It was really intense.  I feel like one misstep and my head wouldn't be attached to my body anymore.  Somehow, I managed to overcome a giant ghoul, a god, and a titan.  So i'd like to think that I fared pretty well in my fight."  The combination of threats he had conquered sounded like quite the feat, but it was a little simpler than that...right?  After wiping the smug off his face, Elspire stuck his hand out.  "The name's Elspire, Elspire Ferdinand!  Sorry if I don't remember if we'd met before, I'm a little bit on the clueless side."  He pointed to his blonde hair, and sticked out his sharp, lizard-like tongue.  The man had already called the other blond man who had been talking to the witch and raptor. 

 

As he waited for the other man to join them, Elspire took his time to scope out the scene.  He hadn't been able to do so prior due to the cavalcade of girls that bum rushed him.  He wasn't good with faces, so he wasn't sure who was and who wasn't a contestant here.  His eyes met with a girl in the corner of the room, blue hair and white suit mixing together for a fabulous display.  Elspire loosened up his tie, the girls stares were like daggers.  He broke eye contact to try and get his mind off of her.  He motioned towards Mr. Pompadour to come and join the two.

 

"Yeah, come join the cool guys?"  That sounded cool right?  

[VCR_CAT]

Dirk Rider: Golden Gate Hotel

 

Morgan returned the apology, although Dirk's apology was more fake than anything. As she left with a wink, there was this sudden, sinking feeling in the pit of Dirk's stomach that told him that he should be more terrified of what was going on than anything he had been scared of before in his life. Thankfully, an older, male voice called Dirk over to join the bald dude with a fancy suit on, and some kid. Whatever, this was the salvation that Dirk needed. Swiftly, he abandoned the squeeling fangirls and joined them over at the bar.

 

"Thank GOD you guys called me over; I thought I was going to die," Dirk gasped out as the bartender handed Dirk another, familiar drink; figuring what he was about to be asked. Throwing the drink back, Dirk could feel the colour rushing back to his cheeks already. "So, did any of you guys get shipped with psycho witch-girls or was that just me?"

[LordCowCowCowCowCowCowCowCow]

He....he lost? Morgan nearly lost her cheerful expression. How DARE he lose? She had been banking on him winning to give her a better chance of Reaping the rewards. He was a dinosaur cyborg how could he lose?
Maybe she had to try and come in contact with the girl who had beaten him, clearly she was the better option...

Dirk had wandered off, the little fly slipping from her web for now. But she could deal with him later. That man is far from the most interesting thing here, she had a dinosaur in front of her after all.

“Oh that’s too bad Ziggy, but don’t feel sad I’m just glad you’re okay.” She said, her concern only partially faked. She had grown somewhat attached to this creature.

"But hey we might have lost but we still have each other right?" She had heard a woman in a movie say something like that before and the male lead seemed to have liked it so Zyg probably would too.

 

Hopefully once all this is over she could have him stay with her.
Pfft, hopefully. Of course she could, she was Morgan Reaperson, nothing would stand in her way of inquiring a cool new pet.
Speaking of which, she wondered where that girl had been during all this...Morgan was shaken from her thoughts when some strange woman came up. A clearly magical force, likely weaker than Morgan of course, with some ridiculous outfit. Morgan vaguely remembered her from the gathering of contestants.
 

 "Sorry for the interruption, you're Morgan, aren't you? I wanna congratulate you for the battle, despite not winning, it was incredible. Oh and you must be Zyg, right? It's a pleasure to meet both of you, i'm Odette."

“Yeah I’m Morgan, the pleasure is all yours. Do you, like, want an autograph or something?”

She had no reason to be polite to this one, no way someone like THAT won her match when Morgan herself didn't.

[Astolfo]

“GAAH!” Lotte snapped to, jerking himself upright, unsure of where he was. Looking side to side quickly, his body tensed and ready to fight, he relaxed after realizing it was his own bed - at least, the one he had for now. Moving to get out of bed, his feet got entangled in the covers, causing him to promptly introduce his face to his room’s floor. Cursing, Lotte threw off the blankets, heading towards the bathroom to check how he looked, groaning as his sore muscles and weariness from the last fight caught up with him. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smirked dryly when he realized his appearance didn’t fare much better. Throwing off his clothes and turning on a hot bath, Lotte sunk down, letting it envelop his body and dissolve away the aching tenderness. Closing his eyes, he whistled. This felt like pure ecstasy.

 

Thinking back to what he could remember of the duel, Lotte’s mind suddenly flashed to the girl, and how he held her as their battle drew to an end. Choking suddenly, Lotte coughed violently. It’s not like that girl mattered anymore, she lost, and would probably be deported. Pity, she had a decent äss. As he mused to himself, a sharp rapping on the door drew his ire.

 

“What ya want?”

 

Lotte sighed when the person on the other side let out a childish yelp. “I don’t bite, so spit it. Whatcha buggering me for right now?” Reclining in his hot bath, he almost slipped and hit his head on the faucet when he heard the next words. “I have to go to some freakin' banquet for our pretty little host?” He groaned in annoyance. If he didn’t come by the request of whatever servant had come to pick him up, there was a chance that those creepy guard-like things would come, which he definitely did not feel like taking any sheet from right now.

 

Pulling the drain and walking out, rubbing his eyes and letting out a loud yawn, he froze when his eyes met directly with what must’ve been that servant. So now the person went and invited himself into his funking room as well as pestered him about some dumb banquet? It seemed like the other fellow was in shock as well. Good. Winding up, Lotte punched the guy straight in the chest, sending him rocketing out of the room and bashing up against the opposite wall, before slamming the door shut and locking it firmly. For good measure, he added a verbal threat. ”You mention what you just saw to anyone, and I will kill you faster than Gerald and his stupid minions can kill those stupid pilots.” Huffing and now aggravated, Lotte went to don his clothes, but stopped midway, recalling the instructions to come in “formal attire”. Giving his own clothes, which were little more than just a massive, bulky robe, and sparingly little underneath, Lotte didn’t feel like that quite fit the requirement. On the bed though, there was a newly arrived package, probably from the bellboy he had just knocked out. Tearing off the top, Lotte shook it out, to receive a folded batch of clothes and a letter.

 

”Dear Mr. Robert Eschalotte,

The hotel has detected you did not have an outfit suitable for the request of formal attire, as designated by the host. After reasonable consideration of the selected outfit choice, several fans have paid a generous amount in a request for you to wear this outfit. Thus, please wear these. Not heeding the orders may result in the visit of a Black Guard.

 

Sincerely,

---”

 

He had a bad feeling about what he was going to see next. Given it was something probably to fit the requests of Gerald himself, Lotte half-expected for something to jump out and try to bite him. Gingerly grabbing one corner of the clothes and shaking it out to unfold it, his jaw dropped to the ground, before grinding against his teeth in fury. Looking back at the letter, Lotte ripped it into a million different shreds before stamping on it with his bare feet and then chucking it out the window, breathing heavily.

 

”LIKE HELL I’M GONNA WEAR A MAID DRESS TO THE BANQUET!”

 

Ten minutes later…

 

Lotte awkwardly peered around the corner of the hall that led into the banquet room, his hands over his head for some reason. Looking side to side to make sure no one else was watching, he took a deep breath to try to resist the urge to break everything around him into a million pieces. ”I swear I’m going to kill you for this, Gerald.” Lotte cursed under his breath again. He was never going to live this down, not from the fans, not from the enemies especially, not from the remaining competitors at all, and definitely not from that Noya girl. Closing his eyes and standing up straight, Lotte walked out boldly, briskly looking for somewhere to hide until the banquet itself could start, wincing as the bright illumination burned his eyes. Fists tightening, Lotte spat under his breath. ”I really don’t get cut any slack from Mr. Host, huh.”

 

His face quickly turning a vibrant red as he realized the situation he was in, he quickly and forcefully walked off, his head down and refusing to look at anyone. Obviously, this wasn’t a good idea. Running smack dab into someone within a minute, they both were sent sprawling to the ground. Rubbing his head as he groaned in pain, Lotte tried to make out what he could see of the person he had ran into. Of course, they got a fancy nice white suit. Why the hell couldn’t he get something like that? Pissed, he was about to spit out a biting remark when he recognized who the other person was. After realizing that, the fact that they got to wear a suit rubbed it in his face all that much more, because the one wearing it was a girl, and a very familiar one at that.

 

”Hey, watch where you’re going, you blind idi- You!”

 

”You’re one to talk!” Noya had enough going on at this banquet as it was. She had to wear this fancy formal wear she didn’t like wearing, somebody had said people were shipping her and that creep Robert as a couple, and now somebody walked straight into her. ”The hell kind of maid just…pffft!” This. Now this was gold.

 

”What are you doing in that getup!?” Noya asked between fits of laughter. ”I had no idea crossdressing was your kind of thing!”

 

If looks could kill, Lotte’s glare could’ve slaughtered an army at just about this moment. ”The hell do ya’ think’s so funny, eh? You wanna die?” Balling his fists in anger, Lotte was about to grab Noya by the throat when some fan who had been wealthy enough to pay the banquet ticket fee decided to be a troll, thinking it would’ve been funny to push him in the back. Crashing straight into Noya and knocking the both of them down on the ground, Lotte landed on top of her with a heavy ‘oof!’. Realizing their faces were mere inches apart, Lotte froze in shock, his face quickly growing a dark red, and almost visibly sweating when he heard the unmistakable sounds of camera flashes behind him.

 

Noya’s face also grew a very obvious shade of red very fast. Next thing anyone knew, Robert shot straight up as Noya unleashed more or less the full brunt of her telekinetic power to get him off of her and step out of the way. Once he was back down on the ground (Noya barely cushioning the fall with the same powers), the psychic exclaimed, ”How many times are you gonna bump into me before you’re happy?! I already told you I’m not interested and you’re not gonna change my mind by dressing up all cute like that!”

 

Shouting out in surprise and almost choking when a heavy force smashed into his gut, sending him literally airborne, he was about to unfold his wings when he realized no combat powers were allowed within this area. Before he could decide to simply ignore it, the hesitation took enough time to send him sprawling back downwards, only barely caught by the same girl who knocked him up in the first place. Coughing as he tried to regain his breath, Lotte sent a death glare at the fan from before, who was just about to turn and make a dash for it. Grabbing him bodily by the scruff of his clothes, Lotte threw him over his shoulder and down on the ground in front of Noya, causing the man to drop his smartphone with which he took the photos. Of course, at that very moment, the fan decided to be once more, very unhelpful by offering a few choice words.

 

“Don’t worry about it Robbie,” he winked at Noya. “I support your ship 100%, OTP and all you kn-AAGHGHK!”

 

Punching the man across the face shut him up very quickly. Grabbing the man’s smartphone, he was about to crush it when the man pleaded with him. “It’s pointless, I already shared it to all the social media networks about you being in a secret lovers’ relationship. Everyone knows it’s true, I mean, after all, if anyone looks at that picture, who could deny i-AGAAGGHK I’M SORRY I’M SORRY!” Almost vaporizing the phone under his foot, Lotte looked straight into the man’s eyes. ”You have 3 seconds to get out of my sight.” Shrieking in fright, the man ran off almost about to sob from the shock of meeting his idol in real life, and realizing it wasn’t quite what he expected.

 

Looking back up at Noya, Lotte motioned aimlessly with his hand. ”What was that you said? Didn’t hear, ‘cause I was beating this guy up.”

 

Noya was more or less frozen in place. That guy had sent a stupid rumor like that all over the social media? And that fast? This was going to spiral way out of control. ”We’re not lovers!” Noya exclaimed, more on the verge of yelling. Pointing straight at Robert, the psychic added ”I’ll get you back one day; make a note of it!” before storming off to where the punch was. She still needed another drink.

 

---

At Noya’s indignant rebuttal of the fan’s assumptions, Lotte couldn’t help but feel a little pissed. Sure, it’s not like they were lovers or anything, but it’s not like she had to just completely trash it so roughly. Sighing, he waved over a servant to go bring him some scotch. Although he had never drunk before, he felt like it was a properly adult thing to do, and reveled at how much more mature he thought it would make him seem. At the man’s complaints that he was obviously underage, a death glare and revealing his weaponry quickly changed the servant’s mind, scurrying off like some frightened mouse.

 

Chuckling, Lotte reclined back in his chair while he waited for the booze to swing by, but promptly fell flat on his back and smacking his head against the ground when he leaned back too far. He exclaimed in annoyance, ”My luck is crap!" and then sighed. Everything seemed to be going to the dumps today. When the drinks came by in a few minutes, Lotte immediately grabbed it off the tray and took his first swig of alcohol. And then almost immediately spat it back out, gagging as it set his throat on fire, making his eyes water. Nearly falling out of his chair as everything in his vision spun around, Lotte angrily shoved the bottle back at the man, almost knocking it over in the process. He glared at the man, who cowered. Lotte began to ask for a different drink.

 

”Gimme some...” He realized he hadn’t thought about what he would drink next. Thinking back on the stuff that had just happened, Lotte smirked as he made his decision.

 

”Show me to the punch bar, if ya’ will.”

[Dad]

Fate

 

She had awoken from a sound slumber, as the helicopter touched down on the Northern Tower of the hotel.  Arisu had dragged Fate downstairs quickly, wanting to get her drunk for whatever reason.  Picking up her enormous weapon, Fate limbered away from Arisu, trying to get her bearings.  "When did I fall asleep?" she asked herself softly.  Holding her head in question, Fate ducked out of the bar, where she was greeted by two hotel staff members.  "Lady Fate," said a moderately older gentleman, as he approached with an envelope in his hands, sealed by a brilliant decorative red rose on its back.  "You've been invited to attend a banquet, hosted by Master Gerald.  It is in celebration of the completion of the first round, and will be held in the banquet hall later this evening.  Your ticket is inside of this envelope.  The dress for the evening is formal, and Master Gerald asks that you dress accordingly."

 

As per usual, Fate said very little, nodding as she and the Hotel Staff stepped inside of an elevator and out of the roaring cheers of the bar patrons' noise.  She nodded in compliance, not seeing a reason to pass on a free meal.  Taking the enveloped, Fate quietly thanked the gentleman and young lady who waited for her, as she pressed a button inside of the elevator.  "Have a pleasant evening, Lady Fate," they announced in unison as the elevator doors closed before them.

 

Fate returned to her room to find a purple dress stretched across her bed, neatly covered in plastic wrap, with matching shoes.  It was pretty, but not really her style.  None the less, Fate didn't have much other than her 'battle garments', and that wasn't saying much.  Not wanting to cause a scene, Fate obliged, sighing dejectedly as she went to shower.  And after a solid twenty minutes of scrubbing, primping, and preening, Fate got out of the shower.  She decided to tie her hair back for now, in a neat bun.  She sighed, as she had no way to bring her scissors with her to the banquet.  Fortunately, no fighting was allowed on the grounds, so she figured she wouldn't need them for this evening.  Slipping into her dress and shoes, Fate stepped out of her room silently, closing the door behind her.

 

And as she arrived in the banquet hall, eyes fell upon her, some pausing and whispering about her.  Smiles followed her, and a google of eyes hovered over her as she walked into the banquet hall.  And just in time too.  Thankfully, the gaze of the audience moved, as a loud speaker came on, and drew their attention.

 

"Your attention ladies and gentlemen.  For the evening's events, Master Gerald Oedipus Dillinger."

 

 

7:15 p.m.

 

As most guests had entered through large, decorated oak doors, they were closed momentarily, shortly after Fate had entered the room.  The lights dimmed in the large banquet hall, as a single enormous spotlight lit the doorway of the giant doors.  Then, having them opened by two purposefully muscular men in black and white suits, thin, horn-rimmed black glasses, and microphone ear pieces, a man in a nine-hundred thousand dollar diamond encrusted suit made of wool, cashmere, and silk.  What's that?  How many diamonds you ask?  Four-hundred and eighty half-carat diamonds, around the entirety of the suit from head to toe.  With a smile of gold on his face, Gerald entered the room,shaking hands and making greetings with the guests.  Behind him, a familiar Steph entered the room as well, dressed in white suit much like Noya's, but with a not so forgiving price tag.  At twenty six thousand dollars, it was a gift from Gerald, straight from the creator himself, Valentino.  With a tablet in her right hand, she tucked it under her arm, greeting the guests along side Gerald.  And in their disgusting fashion, the duo took to the front of the room, standing at the head of a table as the spotlight followed them.

 

In the middle of the room was a beautiful red-wood table, elongated and decorated with white linens.  Floral patterned Chinaware and pure silver utensils made for a total of sixteen seats around the entirety of the main table, in which the contestants, Gerald, and a select guest or two would join them.  Above the table was a bright, golden chandelier, adorning more than seven hundred and fifty lamps, gold, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds to create a pattern of intricate design.  It illuminated the table perfectly, complimenting the beautiful marble floor.  Smaller, equally lovely tables were spread throughout the large banquet hall for the many guests who did accompany the total crowd, creating a very spacious event.

 

And as Gerald took his place at the head of the table, he placed his hands on the back of an ornate white wooden chair, addressing those in the hall.  The large wooden doors to the banquet hall were closed behind him, as he began to speak.

 

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, guests, and contestants," Gerald said with a rather enchanting smile.  "First and foremost, congratulations to our victors for making it to round two.  Let's hear it for them!" Gerald said starting a round of applause.  The audience followed in kind with Gerald, offering their polite congratulatory applause to the winners of round one.  "And to those of you who were unsuccessful, you are of course welcome to stay in the Hotel, and attend viewings of the upcoming duels as long as you like.  And don't be shy about coming back, next year!"  He said wagging a finger in the air.  "This banquet is my thanks to you for providing such wonderful, powerful entertainment for millions of viewers, and creating a lively atmosphere that sparked intense battles.  So please, sit, eat, drink, laugh, and enjoy!  I'll be here for the next hour, and I'll be happy to answer any questions you may have, or chat it up with you!  So go, on, don't stare at me, you silly geese!  Enjoy yourselves!  Feast, on the best we have to offer!" he said as the guests gave another round of applause.  At their resounding clapping, the large wooden doors were opened again, and men and women alike were dressed in dapper black suits, with white serving gloves, bringing in a massive horde of food.

 

Delicacies from around the world were placed along the long wooden table in the center of the room, from turkeys and chicken, to goat and lamb, octopus and squid, and many others cooked in any fashion immaginable.  There were beautiful fruit and nut salads for those who didn't wish to dine on meat, and plenty of cakes, candies, and treats for those with a sweet tooth.  The bar was now in full swing, as the servers exited the banquet hall, and the halls doors were closed once more.

 

Steph quietly approached Gerald from behind, as he sat to eat, placing a napkin into his lap and around his neck.  "It looks to be a success, Gerald," she said sweetly.  Gerald nodded, brimming with pride.  "It seems so.  I'm very happy that things went so smoothly in the first round," he said with a smile.  Steph took the far right seat beside Gerald, taking a salad to her liking.  "If I may ask, sir," Steph said leaning in.

 

"Of course dear."

 

"When do you plan to engage our contestants in the P.D.G. events?"

 

Gerald chuckled.  "Why, tomorrow of course.  They deserve a perfect meal and a good night's rest before tomorrow's games."

 

"And round two, sir?"

 

Gerald took a bite of a steak, chewing and wiping his mouth.  "Well, Steph.  Tomorrow's events will likely take a week's time.  So we'll begin the next round exactly one week from tomorrow."

 

Steph, making notes of the conversation, placed the information in her tablet, before tucking it away beside her.  "Thank you, Gerald.  And congratulations again."

 

"Enjoy yourself, dear!" he said slicing another piece of steak and placing it in his mouth.   "Marvelous!  The cooks really out did themselves!  I really should thank them," he said nodding in satisfaction.  The guests sat, ate, talked, laughed and danced as the banquet went on, with the evening being quiet for the most part.

 

Well, that was until they were rudely interrupted.

[VCR_CAT]

Saul: Golden Gate Hotel

 

The evening was quiet, until the main doors slammed open with a loud bang. Saul stood in the doorway carrying a security guard by the scruff of his shirt; holding him two feet from the ground. Saul was dressed in the formal, Titan, military attire that had been provided to him; appearing like a high-ranked roman centurion with a modern twist. The outfit was a dark crimson long-sleeved tunic over dark brown pants like that of a modern military uniform, but with a diagonal, golden sash and leather padding that gave it more of a roman look. Unlike previous appearances, Saul's hair was clean and tied back, and his sword slung behind his back.

 

"S-sir, the banquet is closed once it has begun! W-we were informed you were not going to attend!"

 

Saul looked the guard in the eye. "I changed my mind. Now that we're in, you have no reason to berate me." Saul put the guard down on the floor, who was visibly shaking in his boots. "They clearly pay too much," Saul muttered under his breath as the guard scampered back out and closed the large doors. The hall fell completely silent as Saul, standing head and shoulders above everyone else, strolled over to a seat at a table near the bar, his outfit only adding to his intimidating air. Each step rang through the hall as Saul's leather boots clomped against the marble floor.

 

"You call this a celebration?" Saul called out to the silent crowd. "Maybe I should have stayed in my room after all. You humans don't know how throw a simple party." The crowd looked more-or-less uncomfortable, but slowly everyone began to resume their idle chatter and returned to celebrating. Saul tested the seat behind him, and tentatively sat down with a loud creaking noise.

 

"M-may I get you something, sir?" A waiter asked as he approached the giant of a man. Saul looked up at him.

 

"A kettle of hot water with copper cups." Saul said plainly.

 

"Something to eat?" The waiter wrote down the simple, yet very specific order.

 

"Two pounds of goat meat, untreated and fresh. Stewed with potatoes, mustard seed, and these spices," Saul pulled an old list from his tunic and slid it over to the waiter. "I trust you can provide such a simple dish."

 

The waiter looked more or less confused at the order; in a hotel with the rarest, most expensive, and most gourmet of foods to provide, the Titan had asked for a dish only barely too fancy for a peasant. Nevertheless, he left to provide the order to the chef. Soon later, another waiter returned with a kettle of boiled water. Reaching into his coat pocket, Saul removed a small, metal container and a large bag filled with dried leaves and herbs that smelled very strongly. Placing a small amount of tea into the infuser, the water in Saul's cup turned a very dark color, creating an incredibly bitter and strong tea. Saul sat there at the table with a rather unapproachable expression, waiting for his food and for the party to be over with.

[Maeriberii Haan]

---

 

Arisu was frankly, quite bored. Chatter wasn't really her prefered way to spend time even if she did talk a hell lot whenever she do. She's not really someone that'd prefer to mingle with the others anyway. Thus, she spent most of her time watching the happily conversing other contestants silently, taking notes about them while personally snickering inside of herself about their seemingly lack of style. The handsome guy that caught her attention earlier seem to notice her eyeing on him, and he seemed to try his best to ignore her presence, while Arisu herself continued to stare at him, really getting curious about his odd magical signature for someone that should be one hundred percent human. The other participants right now didn't really interest her much, though for now she kept herself from taking too much information since she didn't really have any idea about which ones were the winner of their matches, and which ones were merely survivors that got spared.

 

Speaking of, her supposed slave personal playmate friend had arrived into the scene, but before Arisu was able to go towards her, Gerald and Steph appeared, and the banquet was officially started. Arisu backed away a bit as the others seemed to start enjoying the banquet's mouth-watering foods, somewhat unsure whether she should join in or not there. She's still wishing that she'd be able to go towards Fate and talk to her regarding her scissor and her magic for her research, but then, something took her own attention.

 

Not too far away from her, she could see that Steph had put down her tablet on a nearby table, after scribbling what seemingly the information for the next round on it. Arisu froze in her place as her mind was filled with thoughts regarding it. What kind of advantage she could gain from it...and everything was attainable simply by getting that tablet. It's risky, but at that point, Arisu's thought was focused on one thing.

 

"...Well...alright then."

 

Activating her illusion world with her thought and some murmured words, Arisu's mind immediately started to work itself up. First of all she made a block of ice using her magic, and with her illusion obscuring her presence, she walked towards the table, and nonchalantly swapped the block of ice with the tablet, while using her illusion to make it look like the block of ice was Steph's tablet. After taking it and placing it on her pockets, Arisu proceeded to walk towards Fate, nonchalantly ignoring everything else that happened around her as if time itself had stopped for her, and then she sat on her side as if nothing happened. Steph was still busy chatting, so she probably would still not be aware about the switch until...perhaps one or two minutes from now.

 

By then it should be too late.

 

Smiling at the girl with the oversized purple dress on her, Arisu decided to greet her and start talking - probably as a way to not let the girl complain to her about the fact she miscalculated her sizes when she bought the dress.

 

"Heya, that dress looks nice on you. How's the party so far? Pretty nice, isn't it?"

 

---

[Dad]

Fate

 

After the ruckus with Saul entering the room, Fate had managed to take a seat and quietly dine on her meal.  Unfortunately, it wasn't quiet for long.  She had been suddenly and rather rudely approached by Arisu, who complimented her dress.

 

"Heya, that dress looks nice on you. How's the party so far? Pretty nice, isn't it?"

 

She couldn't help but smile.  Apparently, Arisu was not a girl that Fate could say no to.  "Thank you," she whispered, wiping her mouth.  "And yes, the banquet is going well.  This is a nice change of pace.  Your dress is also--huh?"

 

Before Fate could continue on, Steph had shot up from the table.  

 

"My tablet," she said in a low growl.  "My tablet has been stolen, and replaced by this!" she screamed now, slamming the fake down on the table.

 

 

It shattered into ice crystals, before bouncing over the table in a heap of mess.  Steph looked around carefully, but couldn't identify the thief.  Even with her keen senses, she was truly at a loss.  Secretly, however, she was relieved.  However, her face remained flushed with anger and embarrassment, as she shook off her dress, and backed away from her chair.  Gerald simply wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood up from his chair as well.  A slight frown formed across his face, as he became aware at some of the information that was stored on Steph's personal tablet.  But what else?  Gerald turned to the nearest of his escorting guardsmen, and nodded.  They rapidly scurried over to the banquet hall doors, and opened them.

 

"Excuse us, will you all?  We have some important matters to attend to."  Gerald took Steph by the arm, and led her out of the banquet hall with two armed guards escorting them.

 

"Whoever you are, I hope you find what you're looking for."

 

The rest of the evening was uneventful.  The banquet was quiet, except for Saul's occasional requests and his disappointment in the hotel staff's abilities to accurately depict what he wanted, and one or two of Elspire's fan girls screeching in obsession.  At approximately midnight, the banquet was declared over, and the banquet halls were closed.  Having dismissed all contestants and guests for the evening, the night ended with a soft melody by the hotel orchestra, and goodie bags for all of the evenings guests, catered to their personal tastes and whims.  

 

The night for Gerald, however, was not over.

 

"Steph," he said sighing, massaging his temple.  "You must be more careful."

 

"Sir, I--"

 

"I know Steph.  I don't fault you for this.  However, you mustn't be so ready to discard your belongings, especially not one with such valuable information on it regarding the hotel.  We have guests of unimaginable strength and power here.  You must be more cautious now, than ever before.  I must say, I'm disappointed."

 

Steph sighed, doing her best to play the part.  "Sir, with all due respect, it is as you say.  Our guests have unimaginable strength and power.  I had no idea they would be able to mimic my table, let alone steal it."

 

Something crossed Gerald's mind, that made him shake with rage.  "Steph.  What was on that tablet?"

 

"Sir.  The schedule of the next round's fights, the schedule for the Plot Device Games--including each of your convict's details--and a v--" she had to be careful.  She almost gave it away.  "A very detailed report on the week's financial standings."

 

Gerald breathed a sigh of relief, looking up at Steph at last.  "Steph, please be more careful.  I apologize if I was a bit out of sorts, but surely you understand," Gerald said, nodding to Steph.  She nodded in reply, seeing Gerald off to his quarters.  As they neared the heavy titanium doors in the cold underground of the hotel, Gerald turned to face Steph, his back to the doors.  "I'm going to turn in early and get some rest.  I'm looking forward to the games tomorrow."

 

"I am as well, sir."

 

"Steph," he said coldly.

 

"Sir?"

 

"I told you not to call me sir," he said now brandishing a smile.  Steph returned the gesture, as she bid Gerald good night.  "Good night Gerald."

 

"Sleep well Steph.  I'll see you bright and early tomorrow!"

 

 

With the contestants having long since gone off to their rooms, dawn cracked silently but brightly over San Francisco, illuminating the bright Golden Gate Hotel with a warm, welcoming light.  Gerald of course had already been waiting for the contestants, since the wee sprout of dawn showed its face.  They had been awoken at seven o'clock a.m. sharp, with a pre-set alarm that appeared to continue ringing forever.  The contestants were whisked away to a private freight elevator, which--oddly enough--fit the remaining contestants perfectly, even accommodating Saul's size.  They were taken approximately ten thousand feet underground, past even Gerald's room, where they were greeted by a an oddly shaped room.

 

It was octagonal, and it was large enough to house at least three deluxe sized apartment buildings.  On the North, West, and Eastern corners were guard towers, with a single gunman in either of the three towers armed with a high powered sniper rifle, and laser accuracy.  As they entered the room, Gerald was there waiting with Steph, who had apparently replaced her tablet over night.  This one was tightly clutched in her arms, as she took note of which contestants had shown up.

 

"Good morning ladies and gentlemen.  Hope I didn't wake you kids too early!" Gerald joked.  "Today, I have a pleasant surprise for you.  But, I'll be having someone stand in for me, as I've important business on hand today.  So, without further adieu, please meet Victor Klaus."

 

Gerald excused himself, walking away from the contestants with Steph right beside him, in their usual, unnecessarily expensive get ups.  A bald man appearing to be in his late forties, approached the contestants.  He was about six feet, four inches tall and sported a grey mustache and beard.  His face was rather tight, almost as if he had just gotten out of the shower or sauna.  He was wearing a solid black suit and black bow tie, and was wielding a clipboard with a pen in his hands.  He wore solid black shades, and started things with a great smile.  

 

"Good morning damen und herren.  That is German for ladies and gentlemen.  Today's events--the P.D.G.--will be held in this room.  Behind me is a maze.  In either parts of the East, North, and West corners of the maze, you will find a sträfling--a convict.  One of them has killed our victim, but we are not sure which of them has done this thing.  In the very center of the maze, our victim is stretched over a marble pillar, and you have complete access to them at all times.  You are free to examine the witness as many times as you please.

 

In addition, each of your convicts will have something different to say.  They cannot change what they have said, and they cannot move from their markers on the ground in any way, shape, or form.  You are not allowed to use any mental abilities to tap into their brains, and you cannot threaten them  Believe me, I've tried," Victor joked.  "The convicts will be able to answer questions, but things like 'did you kill this person?' cannot be answered.  Your question must be in the form of a statement.  For example.  'You will tell me your name'.  Yes I will.  My name is Victor Klaus.  Once you believe you have found the killer, you must simply give your answer to me, and I will order the convict you have chosen to be slain by one of our guards.  If you are incorrect, the game will continue, until the murderer is found.  If two of our convicts are killed without the murderer being found, the game will end, and no one will be rewarded.

 

In order to keep you from brute forcing the game, if you are found to have not examined the victim, or you are simply giving answers without information, you will be booted, and loose your opportunity at what Master Gerald tells me is a fantastic prize.  There are a number of other measures in place, but I assume you also understand that this is still hotel property.  No offensive or destructive powers are allowed to be used in the game.  If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them."

 

Victor stood aside, taking a remote from his top side pocket, and pointing it at the large marble maze ahead of the contestants.  "Let the games begin."

[Dad]

The Plot Device Games

 

The convicts were in place in the enormous glass maze.  The victim lie dead in the center of it, his body cold and limp, an open wound and dried blood in his head.  And now, two convicts were dead, one innocent, one guilty.  Victor was surprised.  Save for one rowdy customer, things went smoothly, albeit hilariously awkward.  And it started with Robert.  Perhaps he was nervous, or perhaps he panicked, but after a very brief investigation, Robert Eschalotte had chosen his target.  

 

Convinced of Paulie's past as a new comer to American Football on the team of the Dallas Cowboys, Robert quickly assumed that Paulie had a relationship with the victim:  Hubert.  Hubert was also an American Football player, on the team of the New England Patriots.  With a long disputed rivalry between such two teams, the assumption that Paulie would be belligerent towards Hubert makes sense.  Unfortunately, that was not the case.  Paulie and Hubert's relationship was actually quiet neutral, and any dispute they should have had would not come to light.  Paulie was slain by one of three armed guards, from a distance, his brain matter and skull smearing over the glass as he died instantaneously.

 

But the game wasn't over yet.  The death of Paulie left the contestants unsure, as he seemed to be the move obvious of suspects.  Master Detective Dirk was even thrown for a loop, when Paulie was not the perceived murderer.  Robert was now filled with self loathing, as he knew he was responsible for the death of a man innocent in relation to this crime.  And in his stead, Tyson stepped up to the plate to ensure the victory of the contestants.  He bombarded the convicts with questions, unrelenting in his pursuit for the truth.  Running back and forth between the remaining convicts Brian and Malcolm, Tyson soon found something that fell through their initial cross examination:  a weapon.

 

It was soon revealed that Brian, the larger of the two remaining suspects, had taken a brick from the prison workshop.  At the time, it was unclear what he had used it for, or if he had used it at all.  However, he had become the primary suspect in the eyes of the contestants, because of the large indentation and open wound on the victim's head.  Detective Dirk was not yet satisfied either, as he and Tyson swapped suspects.  Brian was now being questioned by Dirk, and Malcolm by Tyson.  Things quickly became heated, as Brian revealed to Dirk that he was not in complete possession of the brick after he withdrew it from the workshop.  But before Tyson could get further answer from Malcolm, Nori had been working silently, and took things over.  

 

Nori rained down a thunderstorm of questions on Malcolm, backing him into a corner when it was discovered that the victim's missing shirt was actually being worn by one of the suspects.  Forcing Malcolm to take off his shirt, they found blood and dirt splattered across it.  Malcolm had also admitted to receiving the brick from Brian during showers, and wrapping it in the dirty shirt, using it as a weapon to strike down the victim, Hubert.  Even after knocking the man out and causing a mess, Malcolm was not satisfied, and attempted to strangle Hubert as he lay there dying.  Nori was the one to deliver the final blow, and give Malcolm's name to Victor, the games overseer.

 

As the shot rang out, Malcolm's chest cavity exploded, his heart ruptured and his organs splattering over the glass maze.  It was all over.  Malcolm, the smallest of the three convicts was indeed the murderer.  His reasoning?  Being bullied by the victim, and a plot for revenge.

 

The game was complete, and Nori and Robert, with the help of Tyson and Dirk, had secured victory for the contestants.  Because of their victory, each contestant was to be given an opportune experience to temporarily enhance their strengths for their upcoming battles in the Secret Cup Tournament.  

 

 

The Buffinator

 

Each contestant that was to progress onto the next stage of the Secret Cup Tournament was to take a brief leave from the hotel, into a place in which they've never encountered.  From the darkest corners of the world to study among the greatest sages that magic has ever known, to the deepest parts of hell itself to bear a suffering that no man should ever have to know.  An exclusive workout with the most dedicated trainer to step onto the surface of the Earth, to a time warping bubble that sent one back in time to work among the samurai.  A quaint visit to the most tranquil of mountains to bathe in the purest of waters,  Each contestant's changes occurred in different places at different times, all of them becoming enhanced either physically, magically, or both.  These "buffs" would turn the following round of the Secret Cup Tournament into quite an explosive series of battles.  Because no one contestant in round two would be left without a dangerous and powerful enhancement to their strengths.  While the effects were temporary, they would prove to be enough to potentially push one over the edge, and quickly.

 

The tournament had reached its half-way point, and now the contestants were returning from their ventures.  They were stronger, and possibly would be at their strongest for some time.  But now, the audience had grown restless.  After a final few days rest, the contestants had recovered from a two week break following the previous Round One of the tournament.  Now, it was time to get things back into action.  In twenty four hours, the match-ups for Round Two were about to be announced.

 

 

11:00 A.M.

Round 2 Start

Day 1

 

BGM:  You're Going Down

 

The day started with a bang, another proud showing of fireworks exploding behind the hotel and breaking open a new day.  Everything occurred in the same fashion as before.  Minus the nightmares, contestants were given a special manila folder that had details containing the face and name of their opponent, as well as their arena and any surprises they could expect while inside of it.  In addition, all of their garments, weapons, ammunition, and tools had been repaired, replaced, and refilled in preparation for their battles.  Whether they were already woken or not, at precisely eleven o'clock a.m., their televisions flickered on, as trumpets sounded on their screens.  The Golden Gate logo displayed proudly, boldly as the first programs began to air, and a man dressed snazzily in a brown suit greeted the viewers.

 

"Goooooooood morning Golden Gate residents, contestants, and guests.  My name is Logan Wells and this is your morning Golden News.  Today marks the start of the second round of the Secret Cup Tournament, hosted by our one and only Master Gerald Oedipus Dillinger.  In just one hour, our contestants will be flown from the rooftops and onto their respective battlefields where the showdowns will get underway.  We've taken to the streets this morning to find out how our viewers feel, and who they expect to win.  And on the streets this morning is Marsha Long.  Marsha, good morning.  How are you?"

 

The screen divided itself, now switching to the view of a bright woman in a blue pants suit standing under the shade of a large oak tree, speaking with a man in a green sports cap, an similarly colored sports jacket and pants.  "Thanks Logan, and good morning.  I'm doing well on this sunny day in California.  But right now I'm here with local sports director and owner of the San Francisco Tankers, Tony Morgan, to get his perspective on the upcoming matches in today's Round Two of the Secret Cup.  Tony, what are you thinking right now?"

 

"Good morning Marsha.  I'm feeling pretty good about today's rounds.  The first round was a little hectic, but pretty damn close.  I'm liking the looks on the faces of these contestants as well.  I know a well trained, well oiled machine when I look at it, and these guys and girls have found resolve and strength.  Someone's gonna go home crying, but I'm sure there's gonna be some really close, great fights out there today."

 

"And Tony, you said to me earlier that you were looking forward to a particular match.  Which one is it?"

 

"Uh--heh.  I'm actually really excited about the showdown that Tyson is going to have.  I was watching him in Round One and he drew my attention the most.  And if he comes out of this thing alive, I'm wondering if he and I can have a sit down about his future outside of combat."

 

"Well thank you Tony.  In addition to hearing from many more like Tony, we've also taken polls this morning just to see how our fans are feeling about the upcoming matches, and who is going to be favored.  We'll have that for you right after the match-up announcements.  Back to you Logan."

 

"Thank you Marsha.  Right now, ladies and gentlemen I have the esteemed pleasure of welcoming Master Gerald Oedipus Dillinger into the studio this morning, giving the day's match-ups himself.  Gerald?"

 

"And good morning to you Logan.  Good morning ladies and gents!  I hope you're all as excited as I am!" Gerald said standing on his tip toes and coming down quickly again.  "With me as always is my close friend and lovely assistant Steph, with the announcements for Round Two.  Steph, if you will?"

 

Steph nodded politely, sliding a black and white copy of into the hands of Logan and Gerald.  Logan raised an eyebrow, as a smile slid across his face.

 

"I must say these matches look fantastic.  Can we blow this up?"

 

On his word, an exact picture perfect replica of the match ups sprang into view, taking over the entirety of the broadcast and remaining up for two solid minutes, as Gerald went over them.

 

 

 

 

 

"And in addition to today's rounds, I'll be bringing with me several guest commentators into a brand new spectator skybox that was recently commissioned by our engineers, to cover the battles as they happen.  Those persons will receive a red manila folder instead of the standard ones."

 

The image of the current round two matches faded slowly, bringing Gerald, Steph, and Logan back into view.  

 

"Get yourselves together contestants, because the fun is about to begin!" Gerald said cheerily.  "Your helicopters will be departing in approximately forty minutes, so please report to the rooftops immediately following this broadcast.  Good luck out there today!  And may the odds be in your favor."  Gerald winked to the camera, before taking a waving exit to the right with Steph.  As the announcement ended, Logan straightened his tie, returning to the news.

 

"Thank you Master Gerald.  Today's forecast is looking wonderful, as a cold front graces the San Francisco area and moves east over the states."  Even as the reports went on, the eruption of cheers from inside of the hotel by the guests were hard to tune out.  The contestants would find that--as they headed to their elevators--fans and supporters would be held back by rather large body guards who had been forced to block off the contestants room access.  Each contestant would be escorted to the rooftop by four armed guards on their sides, to prevent any crazed fans from harming or other wise grabbing at them before their battle.  A cluster of rambunctious girls and boys, teens and adults, and just generally fans who had come from all over to either support or harass the contestants were swarming the hotel, trying to get a glimpse of their favorite combatant.

 

"I'm Logan Wells, and this has been your morning Golden News.  And we leave you with these popularity polls!"

 

[best Dressed]

 

Noya - 65%

Fate - 10%

Morgan - 8%

Odette - 5%

Elspire - 5%

Saul - 2%

Arisu - 2%

Robert - 1%

Tyson - 1%

Nori - 1%

 

[best Couple]

 

Dirk and Morgan- 80%

Robert and Noya - 15%

Tyson and Kokoro - 5%

 

[Most Interesting]

 

Zyg - 80%

Saul - 15%

Cam - 5%

 

[Most Appealing Attacks]

 

Robert -  45%

Saul - 20%

Nero - 10%

Tyson - 10%

Elspire - 10%

Arisu - 5%

 

[Most Frightening]

 

Saul - 80%

Tyson - 15%

Zyg - 5%

 

[Most Tactical]

 

Cam - 60%

Nori - 12%

Zyg - 12%

Arisu - 10%

Fate - 4%

Dirk - 2%

 

[Most Unfortunate Death]

 

Cam - 90%

Kokoro - 10%

 

[Most Likely to Die Next]

 

Arisu - 100%

 

[Most Likely to Die Next (Outside of Gimmicks)]

 

Dirk - 40%

Nero - 35%

Robert - 15%

Odette - 10%

 

 

[Most Likely to Open a Bakery]

 

Cam - 100%

 

[Most Likely to Marry an Inanimate Object]

 

Zyg - 100%

 

[Most Likely to Trip Over an Extension Cord]

 

Basil - 100%

 

[Most Likely to Scare Themselves into a Coma]

 

Tyson - 50%

Dirk - 50%

 

[Most Likely to Become a Celebrity Butcher]

 

Saul - 100%

 

[Most Likely to be the Next Host of Sixty Minutes]

 

Dirk - 100%

 

[Most Likely to Get into a Hit and Run but Return to the Crime Scene out of Guilt for Striking an Elderly Person and Turn Themselves In]

 

Cam - 100%

 

And as the satellites came into position, and the world wide streams went live,  the second round of the Secret Cup Tournament was about to begin.

[VCR_CAT]

Dirk Rider: Golden Gate Hotel

 

Dirk sat up in his bed, meticulously brushing his hair as he watched the coverage. His next opponent was that bald guy; the only other person really his age in the tournament and also the only other guy with a gun it looked like. The poll results ran by. Dirk winced at the results for "Best Couple", but did his best to compose himself for the rest of the results. One of the lowest for "Most Tactical", as well as one voted as most likely to die next. Also voted as most likely to become the next hose of 60 Minutes.

 

"Oh, guy, that's harsh," Dirk muttered to himself as grabbed his usual outfit as well as some extra ammunition. "I'm going to have to step it up big-time for this round." Holstering his gun, Dirk boarded the elevator to the roof. Stepping out, he approached the landed helicopter where the pilot greeted him.

 

"Ready to get this show on the road, Mr. Rider?" The pilot asked as Dirk boarded the plane.

 

"You know I am," Dirk replied, slipping on a pair of shades as he buckled himself in.

 

 

Saul: Golden Gate Hotel

 

The news droned on in the background as Saul attempted to complete his morning meditation. This entire hotel was a prison; the television couldn't even be turned off, and if Saul tried to break it he was certain a new one would be installed almost immediately. When Gerald announced surprised commentators as the colour of the envelopes that would be given to said commentators, Saul glanced over at the door to his room. There, sitting on the floor and clearly slipped underneath the door, was a red folder. Saul got up, put on his robe, and grabbed the folder, glancing over what was written before crumpling the entire folder in one hand. He opened the door to his room and stepped out, spotting two bell-boys who would escort him. Saul let out a long, pained sigh. How long am I going to have to play this senile man's game.

 

"E-excuse me, Mr. Saul? T-the observation booth is th-this way," one bell-boy responded, also shaking in his boots like the guard last night.

 

"Fine, let's get this over with," Saul muttered as he followed them.