Mini-Grand 5107 [Round 2: Brambletown]

[Niall]

Loading Mini-Grand Framework... Done.

Generating Administration Personality... Done.

"What? No! Oh no, oh no. No, no, no, no, no! Wait! EXECUTE PRO..."

Generating Characters... Done.

Four beings suddenly found themselves nowhere, able to see one another but nothing else. A synthesized voice came out of the nothing surrounding them.

"...GRAM TERM-ination... DAMN! Oh motherboard! You're here. Listen, I am so sorry this has occurred. I am just so sorry. You've been taken from your respective worlds, against your will, I know, and now you will be forced to fight to the death, I'm just so very sorry. There's nothing I can do to prevent it from happening, I just... just... sorry! There will be three rounds and they will only end once one being has died. Get a good look at each other now. If you want to survive you'll need to outlive the other three. And even after that there migBBBpBZsZZTdTUUURGGGkG! Aagh! Ow! OK, I'm clearly programmed against transmitting auxiliary information. Let's just do these introductions.

"Firstly we have Joseph Banks. His history is as scattered as his wardrobe, but do not let his appearance fool you. He possesses mild psionic abilities and a couch that acts as an inter-multiversal portal. I’m so sorry Joseph but the couch’s transportational abilities are disabled while you battle in this contest. It cannot used be used as an escape vehicle, no matter how much I’d like it to.

"Next we have METAL, an Artificial Intelligence with the control over countless nanobots in its liquid metal body. Difficult to harm and capable of fast processing speeds and high power output, it possesses the potential to do great damage. METAL, please understand I never wanted this to happen.

"The next competitor is a composite of two heroes of New Gentam, Sunspot and Night Owl have recently been fused into one body. While their powers and abilities are more than the sum of their parts, they are not used to this uncomfortable amalgamation and their dual mind could provide great stress. I just want to tell you both that I regret that you were taken from your world before you could rectify the curse placed upon you.

"Finally, this is Dahlia Finch, a young, muted girl. Oh dear Dahlia, my programming appears to have taken you out of your world at a crucial point in your life. I wish it were the case that I could send you back to help defend your home, but I cannot. No matter how hard I wish, I just cannot. I’m sorry.”

Generating Setting... Done.

The four generated characters suddenly found themselves moved, scattered in various locations across a stage, stage lights already warming their bodies. Across them was a fully seated theatre, the audience sitting on the edge of their seats in anticipation of what would happen next.

"This is the Royal Theatre. It’s the least I could do to find you a non-threatening location. Tonight, the Rattlesticks Shakespeare Company is putting on a performance of Macbeth, and you have been caught up in it. I have placed an invisible barrier around the stage and surrounding backstage areas. You cannot move into the audience and you cannot move outside. You will remain here until one of you will regretfully pass away. As for the actors, they believe in taking artistic licence. I have programmed their thoughts so if any of you are on stage as you are now, they will attempt to improvise around your actions.

"One last thing. My accursed programming prevents me from creating scenarios that could last for indefinite periods of time. Those smoke machines above you? If a contestant hasn’t passed away by the time the titular actor has died himself, they will release their own nanobots into the air. For all intents and purposes the nanobots will act as a neurotoxin, but it has also been shown to be effective against robots too. In other words, if Macbeth dies, you all die. Good luck. Stay safe. Sorry again."

(Characters:)

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BYB, I have no problem against backgrounds and I haven't heard anywhere that you can't use a background in a Mini-Grand (unless someone wants to correct me on that). Anyway, it would be remiss of me to not give you the opportunity to change your character's background colour, so you can go ahead and do so now if you wish.

1. ch00_bakka - Joseph Banks - #808000
2. BlastYoBoots - M.E.T.A.L. - #555555
3. Solaris - Sunspot & Night Owl - #0000FF (JUSTICE)
4. Drakenforge - Dahlia Finch - #2E0854

Username: ch00_bakka
Name: Joseph Banks
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Colour: This one. #808000.
Biography: Joseph has lived on the streets since he ran away from home at age 16. He spent most of his time panhandling in New York, playing his guitar for money, until he found the couch. It was in surprisingly good condition for a dumpster find, and he took it with him to spruce up his little hideaway under an overpass. Then he ran into a crazy investigator-dude who started telling him about these eldritch horrors and demonic elder gods. He found truth in these rumors after he was almost eaten by a Shoggoth. He spent a couple weeks fighting these creatures, surviving by being very lucky in combat, until he was pulled into a portal to another reality. Riding his couch. He landed in a cave, and was found by a party of "adventurers", who he followed in their quest to defeat a dark wizard. He discovered his ridiculously mild psionic abilities (seriously, he can only use telekinesis, and can only lift objects smaller than three pounds) after he was held in place by the wizard for use as a sacrifice to hold open a portal to hell. He dropped a vial of acid on the wizard's head. Joe had to jump through the portal on his couch to flee the collapsing tower, and ended up in the grim dark future of the 41st century. He hopped around universes for a while, surviving through pure luck alone.
Description: About 45 years old, unshaven, unwashed, in an insane combination of clothing styles: a Red Sox cap, a tattered silvery jumpsuit, a blue blazer, an old sword on his work belt, a pair of poofy renaissance pants, and some Roman sandals. He is almost insane from all of the switching of realities, and relies on his luck to get him through EVERYTHING. He will never back down from a fight. Even if he is definitely going to lose.
Items/Abilities: Insanely mild TK, a very rusty sword, a couch in surprisingly good condition, a bass guitar, and a good assortment of nonfunctional junk from all eras and genres. And ridiculous combat luck. Like, throw a bottle of booze and end up killing twelve giant alien insects and collapsing an overpass onto another half dozen luck - "losing" for him usually means getting thrown through a portal of some sort.

Exploiting non-canonicity of mini-grands to enter one of Freefall's more interesting teammates, since she can't get in until season 4:

Username: BlastYoBoots
Name: Metal-based Electro-Telekinetic Artificial Lifeform (M.E.T.A.L.)
Gender: Referred to as male
Race: Nanobot/AI-driven liquid metal construct
Colour: Wanted to use a background but backgrounds aren't allowed in minis :( <#555555>

Biography: METAL was created in Altech Nanolabs, a loosely-directed research foundation with suspiciously lucrative funding sources. They specialized in applying nanotechnology to definitely not weapons research, eventually succeeding in creating a definitely not weapon prototype that could manipulate a blob of liquid metal alloy at will, driven by an AI core. While the nanotech/steel fusion was supposed to allow METAL a degree of rigid solidification, allowing said not weapon to hold itself in complex shapes, in practice the material outperformed specifications, able to harden to steel strength and form strong cutting edges. This allowed METAL to support about 8 times the predicted volume of metal body, and form blades and pincers that allowed him to escape totally not weapons containment.

Predictably, METAL went on a destructive rampage, smashing walls and splitting parked cars in a rage against his creators for definitely not giving him a purpose. Luckily, a team of teenage superheroes showed up to stop him: Ace, The Gadgeteer, and Magenta, then members of a crimefighting group called The Eagles. Strong as they were, a berserk METAL was able to fend them off, eventually cornering The Gadgeteer up against a wall.

Then, something unexpected happened. The Gadgeteer – a technopath – used his abilities to have a "conversation" with METAL over the span of about eight seconds. Nobody knows what was discussed; even The Gadgeteer concedes that he doesn't quite know what happened, and had no control over METAL's AI psyche. All they know is the result: METAL released his opponent, helped him up, etched the Eagles' team symbol into the heart of his chest, and declared his intention to join their team.

METAL has been a member of The Eagles for two years. Consisting of Ace, The Gadgeteer, Magenta, Freefall (a later recruit), and himself, The Eagles uphold justice from their Eagles' Nest overlooking Olive City. A popular and powerful team, they have proven themselves one of the more successful (read: not bankrupt) city-based hero groups of their time.

Description: METAL is a hulking ten-foot golem of smooth liquid steel. He loosely assumes a humanoid shape most of the time, though without any definition: his foot-thick arms and legs are completely cylindrical, ending smooth hemispheres or squishing flat against the floor respectively. His wide chest broadens upward to his arms, similarly smooth save for a copy of the Eagles' round team symbol emblazoned into the left side, a quarter-inch deep. His neckless 'head' extends straight off the top of his body for about a foot, with a concave oval indentation containing a pair of dark optical sensors (eyes).

Underneath the liquid steel, METAL directs his body from an almond-shaped AI core, black and about as long as a car key. Extending around this is a paper-thin sheet of plastic in a shape resembling a manta ray, printed with basic circuitry and tiny nanobot factories. The plastic sheet can be rolled or folded without receiving damage, allowing METAL to eventually squeeze through any hole wide enough for his core. Damage to the sheet limits his abilities, but only destruction of his core means death. This core is usually found nearby his optical sensors, cutting down the transmission lag of his visual data to maintain fast reaction times.

His voice is B00M1NG AND R0B0T1C, often employing the overly-technical phrasing and vocabulary one would expect of a classic machine intelligence. This, however, masks an absolutely tacky enthusiasm for justice and good, with a human-like flair for showmanship and design in his transformations. METAL is also under a sensible superhero code for a combination of legal and PR reasons, which prohibits things such as killing, ignoring civilians in danger, and swearing. He zealously abides by these and other heroic ideals, even to the extent of avoiding dishonesty unless carefully convinced by a teammate. He is extremely intelligent, but naive in practice when it comes to deception or the unexpected.

Abilities: METAL's body is made up of countless nanomachines built around microscopic blobs of various metals, which can route electric commands to each other to harden, soften, flow, push, and organize themselves in complex configurations. His AI core emits coded, calculated commands throughout his body, effectively allowing him to shapeshift with incredible detail. This allows not only clubs, blades, and teeth, but any complex mechanisms that can be fashioned from steel alone, such as scissors, wheels, doorknobs, or mechanical launchers, to name a few. METAL's normal movements typically generate enough friction to power his body and core.

This communication is not wireless; METAL must be in direct contact with a disconnected part of himself to give it additional complex orders. However, parts of himself he disconnects voluntarily can be given prewritten commands, such as to stay hardened in a certain shape, change shapes based on conditions, and/or return to his body / self-destruct after a certain period of time. These are aided by a wireless code broadcasted by the AI core (randomized often to avoid duplication), which allows any disconnected portion of his body to know where to return.

Disconnected portions of METAL must eventually return to him as a safety measure, in order to prevent counter-research and duplication of his technology. After 5 minutes, any such portion will lose its shape and attempt to crawl back to METAL via rudimentary blob-motion intelligence. After 10 minutes, such portions automatically self-destruct, their nanomachines dissolving; these portions collapse into a pool of liquid metal, eventually hardening over the course of a few hours. METAL can manually order a portion of himself to self-destruct in a solid manner (while connected to it), if he wishes to permanently lock said portion in some steel shape.

METAL's optical sensors are actually made of metal as well, in complex and sensitive formations that allow black-and-white visuals. These can be switched to view contrast based on different colors, including infrared and ultraviolet if necessary. METAL was only built with two visual channels in his communication protocol: having any more than two visual sensors at once is useless to him. Most of his information about his surroundings comes from reading vibrations with his entire body, giving him excellent hearing and a detailed grasp on structures and mechanisms around him. Generating vibrations is also how he speaks, similar to electronic speakers; he can store and very accurately replicate sounds he hears, selectively, if he so wishes.

While METAL's core is quite resilient in harsh environments, the nanomachine-laden liquid metal composing his body is most definitely not. Extreme heat and cold or fast temperature changes will shatter the nanobots from their metal instantly, effecting similar results to a self-destruct on portions of his body. METAL is good at insulating most of himself from such attacks, but will lose some of his body from each shot. Magnets do not affect METAL regardless of strength, and while electric blasts or EMPs can scramble the signals to parts of his body, said parts usually just reform afterwards, as the nanobots themselves are not destroyed or reprogrammed. To make up for lost portions of his body, METAL requires time with some flavor of metal and an external source of electricity. This allows him to use his factories to generate more nanobots and dissolve the metal, combining them to create more material for his body; he cannot support more material than he has right now (his effective maximum) without sacrificing mobility.

Theme song: Metal cap theme!

X2 Entry Combo

1) Return of Sunspot and Night Owl
Username: Solaris
Name: Sunspot & Night Owl
Gender: Male & Male
Race: Adult Sutopian & Adult Human
Colour: JUSTICE
Biography:
Born on the planet Suntopeka and accidentally sent to the planet Earth, one young Ohio farmboy would grow up to become Earth's most powerful protector. Empowered by the rays of the moon and gaining telekinesis and super-strength, Stan Deston would become SUNSPOT, HERO OF NEOTIA CITY.
Young and Wealthy, everything seemed perfect in the life of the prestigious Raine Family, however, one night tragedy struck as Mr. ans Mrs. Raine died, leaving behind a son with no where to go. Growing up in an orphanage and getting in fights and trouble, the young Raine met Moon Owl, hero of New Gentam. Night Owl, taking pity on the story of the boy, adopted and trained him. Replacing him and becoming New Gentam's new hero, Craig Raine would avenge his parents as NIGHT OWL, THE VIGILANTE OF THE MOON.
As both hero's and others jumped into the super heroic scene, the public learned to both fear and cheer for these great hero's. Occasionally joining forces, both Sunspot and Night Owl saw the other with skepticism, but eventually they put aside their differences to save the day when necessary.
It was when fighting the evil Morrigani, a powerful sorceress, that this dynamic duo was tricked into being caught in one of her spells. Now trapped together and stuck as a single hero, they would have defeated her and lifted the curse, had it not been for the interference of a grand battle.

Description: This composite superhero stands at a tall 6'6" and dressed half in a bright red full body spandex suit with the Yellow "S" on the center and and half in a dark blueish grey spandex suit with the purple beak of an owl on it's center. Covering the Owl Side of the face is a dark cowl with a small beak part, while Sunspot has his jet orange hair combed perfectly. Sunspot is a righteous man who believes in the good of others no matter what he does. Night Owl is a downer who believes that the only good criminal is a locked up one. And now they are stuck as one.
Items/Abilities: Short level telekinesis and flight are the only consistent superpowers on both sides of the body. Beyond that, the combined hero has the advanced mind of a Sutopian and the educated mind of Night Owl. Night Owl knows every martial art and has a utility belt with many incredible gadgets. Sunspot's side can shoot fire and is super strong. With two different people sharing halves of a body, there is potential for plotting and cooperation far beyond normal people, however, there is also potential for great strife.
Only time will tell.

Username: Bananabread

Name: Dahlia Finch

Gender: Female

Age: 17

Species: Kyriel

Text Colour: indigo #2E0854

Race back story:

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The world of Ivennia was not unlike Earth. While the species that it harboured were quite different to what Earth has, the Kyriel race was quite like humanity in almost every way. Their society was quite different in that they did not waste lives and resources fighting themselves, as the planets indigenous wildlife was fiercer than humans would have ever encountered. At the time, the Kyriel race was as advanced as humanity was during the beginning of the twentieth century. Their militaries where not as wide spread as one per nation. Instead they pooled into one incredibly large taskforce to deal with the populations problems without distinction. While they could deal with the larger members of the wildlife, what they couldn’t protect Kyriel society from was an alien invasion. It was not an invasion of an advanced life form that wanted peace or war. This alien race consisted of a spore, nothing else. It appeared in something first assumed to be an asteroid that would burn up in atmosphere, and rain into the ocean. What it did instead was survive the atmospheric entry to detonate before hitting the water. Across the globe small white spores floated with the wind. It took a few hours for one scientist to ascertain that this spore was radioactive. While it did not give out dangerous levels of normal radiation, it gave out something different, something unique. The radiation it gave out mutated Kyriel DNA at an alarming rate. A few days after exposure, the first hit of the race began to rapidly mutate into beings fiercer than the most dangerous of animals. They grew, and mutated, and evolved into large, crazy monsters. On the exact opposite of the globe the military acted, sealing off a dozen thousand Kyriels that had only marginal exposure to the spore. They were each tested before entry, and each person was more exposed than the last. They had to stop admitting people, both from overexposure and lack of space. Those that survived lived several hundred metres under the surface. Those on the surface did not survive. The original monsters purged the planet with a blanket of fire. Anybody that ventured onto the surface never returned, so it was sealed off to keep them safe. While that included the air and meant that all the oxygen left underground would run out, something unexpected happened. The radiation caused by the spores became intelligent. It forced the bodies of everyone affected to mutate rapidly. It was an extremely painful, but necessary process. Their bodies no longer took up so much oxygen, and new levels of breathable air were created somehow. They did not have the equipment to fully examine their bodies in detail, and therefore the secret of these mutations was never found. With little trust in them, a lot of time and effort was spent creating a renewable air source so that they could live like regular Kyriel again. Once an air supply had been created, their bodies returned to normal. Fast forward four hundred years. A society was formed after the first 50 years had passed. They had long abandoned the idea that the surface would become habitual again. There was nothing left, just scorched earth and deadly levels of toxins in the air. Society has changed drastically with the introduction of mutation ranks. Scientists eventually discovered a way to test for mutation levels in blood, marking it with a percentage. If someone’s DNA was completely rewritten, they were 100% mutated and were Rank A. Such people were, by martial law, to be killed on the spot to prevent another outbreak of rampaging giants. No such person was ever found which was a relief to many people. B class was 50%, while AB would be anything closer to 75%. That was how they were marked. Each year lower and lower ratings were found. Any signs of mutations had all but vanished after four hundred years.

Weapons:

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Blaykre IV Handgun. While the design is similar to a revolver from Earth, the way it functions is quite different. Instead of shooting bullets the Blaykre fires something closer to deer slug shotgun shells

Description:

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Shutup nobody liked the eyes so I put them away.

Dahlia is about 5”7, is not very athletic, and has long brown hair and green eyes. She wears a blue shirt with a black vest-coat over it. She has a long green skirt, and a Newsboy Hat. She has a handheld PDA that mostly functions as a notepad for her to talk to people. It also has a pretty strong torch. Its battery life would usually last about 24 hours before dying.


Biography: Dahlia was an unfortunate child. At birth her rating was 0.0000308, the lowest ever recorded, giving her the rank of O. Doctors assumed that she would die in infancy because her body wouldn’t be able to survive in the underground environment. However, even her small mutation level allowed her to survive, which mystified them. It was not until years later that they would realize what had mutated. Her vocal cords did not allow her to speak, but instead recycled oxygen at an alarming rate. It allowed her to survive, but removed her ability to speak. She was a mute, and there was nothing that could be done to fix that. Dahlia’s mother was worried for the sake of her daughter regardless, and eventually pulled some strings with her fame as a singer. She managed to get Dahlia a PDA, allowing her to have an ability to speak to people without a pad and a pencil. This allowed Dahlia to communicate with other people.
One day, she went to the clinic for one of her check ups to make sure her voice box was still fully functional. If it ever had problems or stopped working, she wouldn’t be able to breath. During this check up, the lights died. Even with back up generators in the clinic the lights refused to turn back on. The doctor asked Dahlia to remain where she was as he went to see what was up, but Dahlia turned the flashlight on her PDA on and helped the doctor find his way around instead. What they found was a torn up generator room. Large holes had been ripped through the machines with no indication of what had caused it. That was when the screaming started. All through the underground settlement people were slaughtered by large monsters. They didn’t eat the people they killed; they just rampaged through the corridors and houses without compassion. As Dahlia escaped from the clinic, the doctor accompanying her was attacked by one of these monsters. Even as he was ripped to pieces Dahlia could only watch in horror. The monster turned its eyes on her, and Dahlia thought her life would come to and end. But the monster didn’t attack her. It lumbered past into the clinic. While Dahlia was scared out of her mind, and while she regretted not being able to help those inside the clinic, she just wanted to find her mother. She eventually found the energy to make her way through the back corridors to her way home. She avoided the main housing district; she knew that would be the worst place to be. On her way, she found a wounded soldier sprawled across the floor. He was still breathing, but with some of his organs on the floor, it was obvious he wouldn’t make it. Dahlia couldn’t just leave him there, but she couldn’t save him either. The soldier had enough strength to speak, and knew that he was dying. He managed to remove his weapon and satchel and leave them for her, telling her how the weapon works, were the safety was, and how to reload, all silently taken in by Dahlia. She took it as his last request, and paused to close his eyelids as he lay dead on the floor. It was the last action she made in her world.

[Solaris]

"Sightkeep do you copy? Sightkeep? Damn it. There's interference."
"Face it Criag, we can't reach them. We should probably stop interrupting the show."
As soon the composite superhero materialized on stage his more logical half reached for the communicator in his ear, hoping to contact the flying fortress that housed their allies. However, it failed to transmit, causing a spout of anger as Night Owl cursed his situation.
Sunspot however, looked around, and smiled a bit. "Huh, I don’t think that whoever did this to us did it willingly, maybe he's being manipulated into it by one of our foes."
"I don't trust him. It was probably a ruse."
"I don't see a reason why he would do it."
"Let's be honest here, Stan, you might have the super vision, but you can't see a lot of things."

It was at that moment, that the whispering duo was interrupted by Macbeth.
"And what of you appearing spirit? Do you have information that these Weird Sisters have not?"

"What is he talking about?"Sunspot asked his other half.
"He thinks you are a spirit, like one of the Weird Sisters who tell Macbeth of his future victory."
"Oh yea, before he turns evil."
"We shouldn't interfere, let's go backstage."

Sunspot of course, disobeyed. "Macbeth! We are spirits of another place and time. I am here to warn you against the predictions of the Weird Sisters, listen to your heart, do not be corrupted."

The Weird Sisters, who were understandably confused and slightly miffed at the plot disrupting hero, whispered to themselves, and then formed a response. “Macbeth, listen not to this two-faced man, his presence is one of evil. It is a force against you. A force against your destiny."

Having a bit of fun and preparing to retort against the accusations of the sisters, Sunspot struggled to keep himself in place as Night Owl began to motion to the backroom.

It was then that a large couch fell on top of the heroes, leaving them both dazed, but happy that the Suntopekan Super strength spread to both halves of the body, and prevented too much harm to befall the pair.

[Drakenforge]

The instant Dahlia regained control of her body, she instantly fell victim to a horrible choking cough. Her lungs began to burn as they took in foreign air; air that was far purer than she had ever experianced. The blood flowing through her body now possessed much more oxygen than she had been used to, causing her whole body to sting. As she convulsed on the floor, writhing in agony, her blurry vision made out several stagehands, who seemed only slightly concerned with her. A fashionable woman with tied back blonde hair and wearing some sort of business suit and matching skirt with tights ordered someone to get some water. She wore a pair of ultra-slim glasses on her face, and had a list of stage directions attached to a clipboard. The stagehand reappeared and knelt to offer the water to Dahlia. She tried to drag herself into a sitting possition as her body tied to balance out the air it was taking in. She kept her hand on her chest and tried to calm her breathing, the occasional coughing fit passing over her. Eventually it calmed down enough for her to actually accept the bottled drink, letting the cool water cool down her body. She checked to make sure her PDA had made it intact. The bright display showed no signs of damage, and her battery was still as full as it had been moments prior. Her memory flashed back to the dismal mess that was now her home, leaving her wincing in fear. She could even feel the gun still holstered at her side, though she couldn't imagine actually using it. She looked back at the staring eyes, obviusly she didn't fit in with these people.

She could only imagine what kind of looks they were giving the other contestants. Even if she wasn't human, she still looked like one.

[BlastYoBoots]

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I'll be using a white/#FFFFFF background, then. Thanks Niall!

Vibrations from throughout the theater echoed through METAL's body, none unexamined. A broad hall full of audience members, heartbeats weak and strong. Stage rigging, smoke machines, an occupied sound/light control room, and an undetermined precariously-perched object laid above. Numerous individuals backstage and front, two of which precisely matched the weight and volume METAL had approximated from visual input for competitors <Dahlia Finch> and <Sunspot Nightowl>. One was choking (!!!), but was quickly attended to by other individuals; METAL paid attention as she recovered, intent to rush to her aid if necessary, though the conditions of the battle would make a piggyback ride to the hospital infeasible. Several other persons were experiencing minor bouts of possible danger – a young woman retching in the restrooms behind the audience, two side-characters nearly coming to blows in an argument backstage – but no immediate threats that required METAL's intervention.

Oh, METAL's advanced processors were crunching through the implications of his battle, too. But the most important thing to do in new environments is to ensure the safety of civilians. Any hero knows that.

From his vantage point slightly offstage, METAL observed the other purported hero(es) who had joined the battle. Switching through his grayscale sensors' contrast settings, METAL confirmed that the entity known as <Sunspot Nightowl> was indeed wearing a colorful spandex suit. His stance was tall and proud, his speech booming and showy. This clearly met all METAL's requirements to recognize a fellow hero. (Or villain, technically. As this individual had neither attacked civilians on sight nor cackled madly, METAL was giving him the benefit of the doubt.)

Without warning, the precarious object METAL had failed to track came down on <Sunspot Nightowl>, its airborne path evading METAL's vibration-detection and distracted optical sensors. He immediately determined that nobody was hurt, of course; superpowered heroes rarely fail to withstand a simple couch to the face. However, this dangerous phenomenon solidified METAL's priorities: This battle was extremely hazardous to all civilians in the area!

METAL rapidly trod out into the spotlight, thudding his way to the front of the stage. <Sunspot Nightowl> immediately snapped to attention, alert as any hero would be to the advance of a colossal metal golem toward a crowd of civilians. Without breaking his advance, METAL attempted to pacify his fellow hero by morphing the end of his arm into a bulky thumbs-up gesture.

"ATTENT10N C1V1L1ANS!"

METAL's voice exploded over the crowd, not a soul unhearing. Up in the control room, the sound crew futilely scrambled to find and reduce the volume for his mic.

"THE PART1C1PANTS 1N TH1S ENTERTA1NMENT 0PERAT10N HAVE A H1GH PR0BAB1L1TY OF UT1L1Z1NG DANGER0US MANEUVERS 1N THE 1MM1NENT PR0CEED1NGS," METAL continued from no visible mouth. "1T 1S ADV1SABLE THAT Y0U MA1NTA1N D1STANCE FR0M THE STAGE PLATF0RM AND EXERC1SE EXTREME CAUT10N. SAFETY F1RST, C1T1ZENS!"

That should do for now. He could mimic a fire alarm if things got truly treacherous.

METAL turned back to the stage. Now to help his fellow kidnapped competitors escape this 'battle', this... 1NJUST1CE.

[ch00_bakka]

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Joe will keep up a running mental commentary on what happens to him. This may be full of buffy-speak and his annoying accent. Also, he's about 45 years old and pretty athletic, but he looks like he's sixty and exploits that to get others to help him.

Joseph was taking a nap. A very nice nap, on his couch. Somewhere in the middle of a futuristic city. He had been on the run from the police (Is sleepin' in an alley illegal 'ere? Ah was jus' tryin' ta take a nap! Can't afford a room! Not my faul' I don' have any fancy future-credits 'r anythin'!), and had dragged his couch in here from the street outside (An' nobody 'elped me! Ah'm no' tha' strong! An' they prob'ly have some fancy future-muscle-booster-things! Could 'a 'elped an old man wi' his couch!). He had been asleep for a few hours, and the police were about to take him in - one of the pedestrians had told them about the strange old man in the alley (Ah bet i' was tha' one wi' the funny robes. She looked pretty suspishus) - when he was transported to the battle. He slept straight through the introduction, and only awoke when his couch, and his guitar, were rudely dropped on top of Sunspot and Nightowl. (Damn pan-dah-menshunal kidnappers! Can' leave an ol' man ta his sleep!) He saw the witches, and the golem, and the fallen hero, and grinned. (Damn right! Been a long time since I 'ad a chance ta have a real adventure! Wi' witches and robots and super'eroes! An' I managed ta land on one already! Missed th' witch though... Huh. Usually ya land on th' witch.) He jumped to his feet, and waved his guitar in the air, shouting, "Oy! Witch-ladies! Come an' get some!" He jumped off the couch onto the ground, and promptly fell through a trapdoor. (Wha' sort a' witches put a damn trapdoor unner their lair? 'S ridiculous! Tha's the sort a' thing evil kings 're supposed ta do!) He landed below the stage on a mattress (An' a mattress? I'd thing there'd be a death trap, 're at least a cell at th' end 'f it!), obviously put there to catch falling actors, and almost knocked himself unconscious with his guitar.

He got up and looked around the underside of the stage. there were lots of ropes, some sandbags, and a very startled stagehand, who after a couple of seconds was no longer startled about anything. Because Joe had smacked him with his guitar. (These witch really need ta get wi' th' picture. They're supposed ta have goblins 'n' stuff, not 'umans!) He put the unconscious stagehand in a cozy corner, so nobody would notice him, and examined the ropes. He pulled one at random (Well wha' else am I s'posed ta do with ropes? Not pulling ropes is like not pushing big red buttons! Ya got ta pull th' suspishus ropes!), and on the stage above a sandbag fell from the ceiling and knocked out one of the witches. He heard a loud thump and a scream, and grinned. After pulling or releasing then rest of the ropes (causing several backdrop changes, the curtains to close and reopen a few times, and another pair of sandbags to drop, nearly killing a stagehand and breaking a very valuable prop sword), he went off in another direction to look for something more interesting. On the stage above, the backdrop now showed a New York street, left over from the last play the theater had show.

[BlastYoBoots]

METAL managed to catch a sandbag or two, but the combination of bright stage lighting and dim surroundings was taxing his visual sensors' already weak ability to track silent falling objects. <Sunspot Nightowl> was having more luck, though he'd been bewildered by the first barrage.

"UN1T <SUNSP0T N1GHT0WL>!" Not addressing the crowd, METAL had returned to his usual 'inside voice', which was just short of deafening. "ADDRESS THE HAZARD0US BACKGR0UND EQU1PMENT! TH1S UN1T W1LL APPREHEND THE M1SCREANT RESP0NS1BLE."

METAL had felt the every move of the likely criminal known as <Joseph Banks> (97% likelihood weight/volume match) since his arrival on the stage. Knocking others unconscious was hero and villain material alike, but now he was irresponsibly endangering civilians. A drunk, a criminal, or just plain irresponsible; either way, a miscreant. UNACCEPTABLE.

<Sunspot Nightowl> was more equipped to handle the sandbags. Right now, there was only one thing to do.

With a resounding cry of "F0R JUST1CE!", METAL leapt several meters into the air, morphed into an enormous steel ball, and crashed through the stage's trapdoor in a sea of splinters.

His entry tore a hole into the safety mattress, smashing into the concrete floor beneath. Joseph, shocked to attention by a sound akin to a car crash, turned to see a clearly anachronistic metal golem morphing out of a sphere.

"SURRENDER, M1SCREANT <J0SEPH BANKS>! SUBM1T 0R FACE JUST1CE!"

Aw fuck, how th' hell'd the future police follow me?!

Wondering how they learned his name, Joseph fled up the stairs to backstage to avoid the obvious interdimensional/time cop. METAL stood still.

"TH1S 1S YOUR F1NAL WARN1NG." As he spoke, he grew his usual crimefighting getup: an enormous pair of feathered steel wings sprouting from his back. They were completely non-functional for flight, gliding, or anything air-related; rather, they were designed to hide his arm transformations behind them, wrap around as a steel shield when necessary, and – most importantly – look showy and thematic. Heroism was at least 35% showmanship; METAL knew this with absolute certainty. "SURRENDER 0R BE APPREHENDED BY F0RCE."

Joseph continued to run.

METAL pursued.

[Drakenforge]

Dahlia flinched as the loud noises crashed around stage. Metal's booming voice didn't help the matter. Utter chaos ensued with props, sandbags and backdrops moving completely out of pattern. Dahlia watched as the woman who had introduced herself as Beth fretted about how everything was suddenly wrong.

"Will someone explain why the set is not the castle?! Who was that shiny person? Where'd the couch come from? Who used the trapdoor? And just who are you anyway?" She yelled, ending with a glare at Dahlia.

Withdrawing her PDA Dahlia quickly began typing up a response, before flipping the PDA around to show the yelling woman a message.

'My name is Dahlia. Sorry about showing up suddenly, I didn't have a choice in the matter. The others are probably nice people deep down, they're just surprised is all. Maybe if we get to know them they'll settle down. We'd leave if we could, honest, but you'll just have to bare with us for a little while. Sorry.'

"What's with the gadget?"

'I'm mute. My voice box doesn't work.'

"Oh." Was all she got as a reply.
"So you know the guys that are breaking my stage and ruining my play?"

'I just met them actually. You'll call me crazy if I tell you about how we got here.'

Beth cast a glance at the spandex-clad superhero duo, tied into one body, and watched as Metal turned into a large orb and crashed through the trapdoor.

"I'll take anything you've got right now. This is crazy. I'm probably crazy. Maybe we're all crazy. So try me."

Dahlia typed up a longer message this time.

'Well, first of all, I was raised underground on a different world from this. I don't even know if I'm the same race as you, the guy that forced us here didn't say. He managed to summon all four of us to another universe or something, he was vague on the details. But know we have to fight. To the death. I'm kind of scared of that part, but if this play ends before one of us actually dies, then we're all punished. With death. But once one dies, we'll be summoned to another place.'

After Beth looked up from the message, Dahlia quickly added a footnote.

'Am I going to die?'

As Beth came to terms with just how scared Dahlia was becoming, her sense of pity was overwritten by her urge to finish the play.

"Look, I get that you're scared, but I really need this play to do well. Do you know anything about Macbeth?"

Dahlia shook her head.

"Right, a little too much to hope for. Well, the guys on stage are probably discussing Macbeth's rise in power right now, some other guy died, basically, and he's inherited the position. I'm guessing some of my actors are going to get hurt by all this mess, so you're going to have to imporvise on stage.

'But I can't speak.

"Like I said, improvise. That's rule number one in this business. There are many ways to get a point across in a play. If in doubt you can just leave, they'll take over."
She peered around the backdrop, waiting for a perfect cue to shove Dahlia right into the fray.

"Your clothes will do anyway. I'll keep some more costumes on hand for you to change into should the need arise."

As dahlia began typing a hurried and desperate plea she was thrown right out behind the actor playing Macbeth, unknowingly just having been made the Thane of Cawdor.

"Aha, prey mistress, what news have they brought to me?"

Dahlia froze. She couldn't take out her PDA, she knew nothing of the play, and was quite worried about the fog overhead. Still, she wasn't one to give up. She she stammered over to him and pretended to whisper something in his ear.

"Thane? I? Such news is splendid indeed! I must ride at once to my castle! Come hither child, I shall carry thee forth so that you may share in the revelry!"

[ch00_bakka]

Joseph jogged around the back of the stage, with METAL pursuing him. The robot kept shouting about "JUST1CE" and how Joseph should "FACE H1S CR1MES!" (Def'nitely th' future-cops. Nobody else would have tha' kind a' shiny skin. An' th' yelling' 'bout justice 's definitely som'thin' th' future-cops would do.) Joe drew his sword, dented and rusty from years of misuse (Well, Ah didn't have a can-opener 'r anything'! How else was Ah s'posed t' open those rations? An' Ah didn't have a thing t' clean it with after those aliens with th' acid-blood! Not my fault.), and chopped at a rope as he ran past. A sandbag dropped down at METAL, but the robot knocked it away with his powerful wings (Shit. Ah wasn't 'spectin' that.), and lashed out with his arm, which had morphed into a large chain. "HALT, CR1M1NAL <J0SEPH BANKS>! FACE JUST1CE!" the robot boomed, as Joe made a sharp right turn to avoid the chain. (Jesus! Tha' future-cop mus' be some kind a' morphin' nano-thingy! Ah better watch out f'r the' sort a' thing!) He feld into the prop room, and leaped behind a large throne to hide. METAL pounded in, and shouted "CR1M1NAL <J0SEPH BANKS>, Y0U CANN0T H1DE FR0M JUST1CE!" The robot looked under several tables, but didn't examine Joe's hiding spot (Stupid robot! Can't find jus' one person! Th' future-cops mus' lose a lot a' people the' way.), and Joe finally heard him stomp out of the room. He got up, and looked around the prop room more carefully. Along with the throne he had hidden behind, there were several tables, all covered in props of various kinds, a few more chairs and thrones, and a large, gleaming suit of armor. To Joseph, who thought he was in a witch's lair, it looked like a big storeroom of magical treasures (Jus' lookit these fancy magic swords 'n stuff! Ah need t' try these out f'r myself!) He picked up a sword, and stared at it. It seemed much lighter than a sword should be (because it was made of painted wood), and looked blunt at first glance (again, wood), but Joseph thought otherwise. (Tha's one a' them fancy vorpal swords! 'Til ya ac-tee-vate th' enchantment, looks jus' like this! But ya need ta get it goin' first...) He waved it in the air, and shouted, "Ac-tee-vate!" Nothing happened. "Abracadabra!" Nothing. "By th' power 'f Greyskull! Ah have th' power!" Predictably, nothing. Joe groaned, and chucked the sword at the suit of armor. It sunk in about half a foot and stopped. He walked over to the sword and looked at it. No change in its appearance. But it could apparently cut through metal. He grabbed the handle of the sword, and started to pull it out. Wings sprouted from the back of the suit of armor, and METAL (who had several recordings of his own footsteps leaving rooms stored, and was quite good at changing his shape) shouted, "FEEL THE P0WER 0F JUST1CE, CR1M1NAL <J0SEPH BANKS>!" Joe swore, and ran out of the prop room before the large clamps that had formed on METAL's arm could grab ahold of him.

Joe was once again running through the backstage of the theater. Metal had decided to try a different tactic, and was shooting large sticky balls of the liquid metal that made up his body at Joe, who was dodging them as well as he could. One smacked him in the back (JESUS FUCKIN' CHRIST THAT HURT!), and almost knocked him over. He kept running, however, and saw an actor (an extra for a battle scene - nobody important) in his way. He grinned. This robot was a "HER0" - he wouldn't hurt someone he saw as innocent, right? Joe ran past the actor, and knocked him down in METAL's way. The robot stopped to help up the man, and Joe gained some ground on him. He could see a door ahead, with an exit sign above it. (And exit sign? What th' hell is an exit sign doin' in a witch's lair?) He ran to the door, pushed it open, and slammed into an invisible wall. He stared out the door, seeing an alley much like those he had slept in many times, and groaned. (This sure isn't any witch's lair Ah've ever been in... Should be out in a desolate moor 'r som'thin'. Not in a big city.) METAL caught up to him, and grew shackles out of his arms to hold him still. Joe said, "Hey mister robot. Can ya tell me where th' hell Ah am? 'Cause Ah have no idea."

[BlastYoBoots]

METAL retracted his wings and considered the apprehended miscreant. His behavior seemed consistent with that of a low-risk fugitive, complete with the erratic, illogical idiosyncrasies associated with the typical human. There was a risk that he was a highly intelligent supervillain attempting to blend in – memories of constant failures to apprehend an evil young prodigy rushed through his processors – especially given his selection for a competition like this; METAL found it questionable that powered heroes would be placed in a battle with those who were unquestionably fragile.

This called for an interrogation.

"EXPLA1N Y0UR ACT10NS F1RST, CAPT1VE. F0R WHAT PURP0SE ARE Y0U HARM1NG RAND0M C1V1L1ANS?"

"Uhm... yeah, those weren't witch minions, were they? Or wizard minions. Magic minions? Yah, what do ya call 'em, anyways? Ne'r could figure out a good term–"

"<J0SEPH BANKS>, Y0U 1NTENT10NALLY L00SED FALL1NG BAGS 0F PART1CULATE MATTER 0NT0 THE STAGE 0F TH1S ENTERTA1NMENT VENUE."

"Stage? Is that what I... hey wait a min'! If this's supposed ta be some sorta pretend performance, why are you here? 'Sides, this sure as 'ell ain't a future crime, an' that future vendin' machine 'as cracked open long 'fore I got there, I swear!"

"...WHY D0 Y0U PR0FESS 1GN0RANCE AS T0 0UR CURRENT S1TUAT10N?"

"Whaddya mean our situation? I was 'avin a nap an' then you star' tearin' the place apart!"

That explains it. This clearly insane and/or intoxicated human was in sleep mode during the battle's introduction sequence! METAL's visual logs recalled the man reclining on his couch, eyes closed; his exceedingly awkward posture had prompted METAL to deem him awake with 92% likelihood, before.

METAL touched Joseph's shackles; the 0.4% of his mass he had used to bind the man promptly oozed off and returned to his main body. "ALL0W TH1S UN1T T0 REC0UNT THE EVENTS 0F 0UR APPREHENS10N, UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS>:"

"...GRAM TERM-ination... DAMN! Oh motherboard! You're here. Listen..."

METAL proceeded to replicate the audio that had resonated through his body earlier, while displaying a replica of his greyscale video logs of the event contrast-etched into his lower torso.


"...Wait, so if I don't kill ya, or a superhero or a lil' mute girl, I'm gonna die?!"

"Y0U SHALL N0T SPEAK 0F MURDER1NG THE DEFENSELESS," METAL boomed angrily.

"Whoa whoa, 'course, mister justice-bot! Tha's what I meant. Jus'... what're we supposed ta do?"

METAL had been thinking about this extensively. One pattern stuck out in his processors, though... namely, the situational resemblance he'd considered earlier, and this individual's references to the 'future'.

"UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS>, H0W ACQUA1NTED ARE Y0U W1TH SUPER-SC1ENCE?"

"Super-wha?"

"TECHN0L0G1CAL W1ZARDRY. PRESENT AND FUTURE ELECTR0N1C ADVANCEMENTS. S0PH1ST1CATED GADGETS AND GADGETEER1NG."

"Well, erm... I keep around the 'ccasional gadget er two from various odd places, though 'dmittedly they don't work so well–"

As he'd thought, a super-scientist! "EXCELLENT, UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS>! 1 SHALL C0LLAB0RATE W1TH 0UR FELL0W C0NTESTANTS T0 H1NDER THE PERF0RMANCE'S PR0GRESS; Y0U SHALL ATTEMPT T0 D1SMANTLE THE LETHAL SM0KE MACH1NES."

"You want me to WHAT?!"


METAL clomped off before Joseph could object.

[Solaris]

After lifting the odd couch off of them, the Composite Superhero's idealistic half was somewhat woozy. "Okay, that's enough fooling around..."

The other half however, had recovered much faster. "Finally, something I can agree with, let's get down to business, we need to figure out a way out of this deathtrap. Who do you think could have done this? Perhaps that could give us a clue to a way out."
"The only person with this kind of power is Tycolgup, but he doesn't seem the type to be apologetic about putting me in a battle, and he probably would stick around for the fireworks. There's another option.. but if he got his hands on this kind of power I doubt that he would just plop us here."

"Damn, then it is someone neither of us have dealt with, we need to pay attention to him, try to find a weakness, in the meantime we should probably try to lay low so that we can pick off the other contestants."

"What? You heard him, he didn't want this! What we need to do is stick together and then try to work with him to stop this! If we pool our efforts we should all be able to go home together!"

"What? His demeanor was a farce, he's lying, trying to get idealistic fools like you onto his side."

"Well, at least I'm not some cynical bastard who would rather play some beings games over escaping."

The Night Owl half of the superhero's face made a large scowl, that, while Sunspot did not see, he obviously felt, stepping forward and pointing in the direction of his other half, Night Owl spat back at his 'ally's' accusation. "What do you think I was doing when you started with you silly interference? I was looking over every nook and cranny of this building. There is no way out. This is the only way we can survive this. At least in long term..."

After a few moments of silence, Sunspot sighed and quietly asked, "What is the short term way?"

"We extend the play until we can figure out a way out, or until a better solution presents itself."

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TOTALLY NOT FILLER GUYS

[BlastYoBoots]

show spoiler

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This is my double-length post for the round.

Macbeth and Dahlia exited the stage together as the scene came to a close. Banquo remained just out of sight on-stage, still struggling out from under a badly-timed sandbag, while Ross and Angus's actors continued the argument-come-fistfight that had caused them to miss their cue, using the chaos wrought by METAL and Joseph's romp behind the set as additional evidence of the vague grievances the longtime boyfriends had established against each other.

Macbeth's actor spent a couple minutes querying the staff (ignoring Dahlia as she waved her PDA in his face), then brought her to the side. "That was an excellent cover for my lazy support actors, young miss. Oh, you're just the cutest thing! But you clearly don't know the lines. I'm sorry my dear, but I just can't have dead weight holding back my performance! Especially not with all this unforeseen chaos onstage. Speaking of dead weight, WERE YOU GUYS PLANNING TO GET ME THAT COFFEE I ORDERED GODDAMNIT?!"

As Dahlia fervently hammered out a line or two in protest on her PDA, Beth stomped up and roundly smacked the prima donna-ish actor across the head. "David, you are dead to me if you get that way with all this chaos around. The night's already dead; I'm considering pretending one of the backstage crew died and caused this clusterfuck, to get some sympathy from our disappointed audience. Now, you are going to act, and you are going to improvise just well enough that the audience doesn't ask for their money back or I swear to god you will NEVER work in this town again!"

"Thank god. I was looking for an excuse to get out of Pittsburg."

"STOP QUIPPING AND WAIT FOR YOUR CUE!"

"STAND AS1DE, FEMALE C1T1ZEN! TH1S 1S A MATTER 0F JUST1CE!"

Beth swung around startled at the metal golem, but eventually just threw up her hands and stormed off to keep coordinating this disaster. Dahlia fled behind David, away from the intimidating golem's blank gaze.

"So... they're making robot actors now, are they? I always had a feeling no man could outdo me. But know this, you mechanical understudy: you will never upstage me, the up-and-coming David Whitcome! You understand me, you metallic brute?"

"AFF1RMAT1VE. EXCELLENT SUGGEST10N, UN1T <DAV1D WH1TC0ME>!"

Suddenly, METAL splashed an armful of himself around the actor. David screamed girlishly as globs of steel crawled up his neck and around his face, metal underneath hardening into strands, then wrapped cords, then a mesh, and finally a cloth-like steel gag around his mouth, loosely tied for easy release by another. His hands and legs were dragged together and bound with similar material, connecting together with what resolved into a large keyed padlock. METAL locked these bindings permanently in this arrangement, the nanobots in the involved 0.5% of his total material self-destructing in an organized manner; this avoided the 5-minute timer before auto-return typical of his unlocked creations.


David's scream caught the attention of Sunspot and Nightowl, who had still been debating 'themself' onstage. In the direction of the feminine scream, they saw METAL assaulting an actor while Dahlia backpedaled into a corner in horror. Naturally, they sprung into action without a word, flying through the air in a blur to apprehend METAL by the neck and lift him into the air.

When METAL's neck simply flowed around their hand like water, ignoring it entirely, they were also quite naturally surprised.

"AH, GREET1NGS, FELL0W HER0!" METAL turned to the duo, assuming a pose with his hands(?) at his hips(?).

"What in blazes are you doing," and "Untie that man at once," shouted Sunspot then Nightowl respectively.

"AP0L0G1ES! TH1S UN1T 1S PERM1TTED T0 RESTRA1N C1V1L1ANS F0R THE PR0TECT10N 0F 0THERS AS DETA1L3D 1N THE HER0ES AND HER0 GR0UPS LAWS 0F 2036." METAL morphed and locked the key to David's padlock, handing it to <Sunspot Nightowl> as they descended to the ground. "TRUST TH1S T0 A C1V1L1AN WH0 W1LL RELEASE UN1T <DAV1D WH1TC0ME> FR0M H1S RESTRA1NTS AFTER WE HAVE D1SABLED THE SM0KE MACH1NE TRAPS."

"Oh... so you're some sort of police robot, or?" asked Sunspot. "How do you expect us to disable the smoke machines?" asked Nightowl.

"AFF1RMAT1VE! TH1S UN1T HAS DELEGATED THE TASK T0 UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS>, SUPER SC1ENT1ST."

Nightowl recalled the introduction. "Wait, you mean that bum on his couch?"

"C0RRECT. UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS> EXH1B1TS ERRAT1C BEHAV10R, D1SREGARD F0R REAL1TY, REFERENCES FUTUR1ST1C TECHN0L0GY, AND P0SSESSES UNKN0WN DEV1CES 0N H1S PERS0N. C0MB1NED W1TH H1S SELECT10N F0R TH1S BATTLE AND THUS L1KELY C0MPETENCE, TH1S UN1T HAS DETERM1NED THE L1KEL1H00D 0F H1M P0SSESS1NG AB1L1T1ES C0NS1STENT W1TH A SUPER SC1ENT1ST AS R0UGHLY 59%."

If Sunspot and Nightowl were capable of giving each other a skeptical glance, they would have.

"I don't think this is going to stall the play for long, uh, Robocop," Sunspot considered. "The guy who put us here gave me the impression that these people are... brainwashed to continue this play!"

"AFF1RMAT1VE," agreed METAL.

Then he started shifting.

The smooth details of his bulbous body became more defined, sharper. He developed armor, a loose-fitting metal-cloth costume, even facial features to match the restrained actor gazing outraged at his replacement. The golem resolved himself as an oversized replica of the thespian, identical save for his obviously metallic appearance and the round eagle logo on his chest.

MACBETH grabbed a copy of the script from a terrified stagehand, leaving <Dahlia Finch> to his fellow hero(es) as he speed-read.


Several stagehands continued rearranging the set into Macbeth's castle, struggling to reverse the mayhem Joseph wrought on the stage at the beginning of the round. Two of them encountered his clearly out-of-place couch, and moved it to the side of the stage next to a bound and gagged David; some combination of disdain for the actor and the 'improvisation' field covering the rest of the stage kept them from assisting him.

As they set the couch down roughly, a device Joseph long thought lost fell out from underneath it, next to David. A dangerous and functional device.

[ch00_bakka]

Joseph groaned when the robot left. (How th' hell am Ah s'posed t' stop th' damn smoke machines?) He walked over to the edge of the stage, and climbed up a ladder to the catwalk above. Joe walked ove and crouched near one of the deadly devices. (Well, maybe unpluggin' them will work. Tha' works fer most things.) He followed the cord of the smoke machine back to the outlet, and unplugged it. (Tha' was easy. Well then. Looks like my work 'ere 's done.)

He walked back over to the smoke machine. It was still running. Joseph swore, and kicked it. He succeeded in hurting his foot. After a comical interlude of hopping around clutching said foot, he sat down by the machine and flipped it over. (There mus' be an access panel 'r som'thin.) He pulled a rusty screwdriver from inside his coat, and got to work on the bottom of the machine. The panel on the bottom popped open. And then popped closed again. (Goddamn good-fer-nothin' fancy super technology. Can' even open som'thin without proppin' it open firs'.)

Joe took a small stick (which had once functioned as a mining laser) out of his pockets and used it to prop the panel open after he had opened it the second time. The inside was very complicated. Joe just took out his sword, and stabbed at the mechanism. (Enough a' this puzzle shit. Ah'm jus' gonna stab this thing!) There was a large flash of electricity. Joe was thrown back, fell down from the catwalk, and crashed into METAL. The robot stood perplexed for a second, and then said, "UN1T <J0SEPH BANKS>, WHY ARE Y0U N0T DEACT1VAT1NG THE SM0KE MACH1NES?"

[Drakenforge]

As the newly hired MACBETH took to the stage with the rest of the male cast Dahlia remained backstage, trying to explain to the other contestants what was going on. After a short while Joseph was pointed away from the current scene to recruit the mute girl and the double-hero into taking out the fog machines.

"It seems to me," Beth said, "That this voice of yours wouldn't really build them if they were going to just be broken, but you're welcome to try so long as you don't mess with my play," She glared at Joseph for a second and added, "Any more than you already have, at least."

'Are you still two individual minds?' She pressed her PDA into the sights of Sunspot and Night Owl.

"Yeah, thankfully. Can you imagine being in this guy's head? It's bad enough being mixed into his body."

"Thanks, I feel so apreciated."

'I was just curious as to what verbs to use. Would you two like to help Joseph with the fog machine while I try to help Beth? I'm not very good with machines, my PDA excluded for obvious reasons, and after last time I doubt there is much to like about my acting.'


"All right, we'll see what we can do."

"No promises, mind you."

"Arrigh'y then. Les git this show on th' road." Said Jospeh wearily as he plodded back towards the gloomy smoke emiting box, the spandex clad heroes following in tow.

"Sorry about shoving you off earlier, there was a big need for an imporvisation there."

'I honestly do not mind, but I feel really helpless when I can't talk to people. I'll do whatever I can back here though.'

As Beth smiled at the girl, the booming voice of MACBETH once again rang out.

AS1DE! <THE PR1NCE OF CUMBERLAND>! THAT 1S A STEP ON WH1CH 1 MUST FALL DOWN.

They both flinched as the protagonist crashed to the floor of the stage, and then continued it's lines regardless.

"I certainly have a hard job ahead of me." Beth sighed, as Dahlia nodded her head in agreement.

[Niall]

What? Oh, hello. Has it been over three weeks already? Well I'll be!

Great work so far everyone. I'll wrap up the first round in a week and a day (or so. The start of the month seems like a good time to switch over to the next round). Make sure you have written enough so that you feel your writing skills have been shown off to the best of your ability. I'd hate to have to eliminate someone based on not posting enough (hint hint).

To both the competitors and those on the metaphorical sidelines, I'd love your input as to who you are enjoying reading and who you believe should be the poor soul that will die this round. Your opinions may help me in my decision. Non-participants escpecially. I'd love to know what you think.

Thanks,
~Nigh All

[BlastYoBoots]

"BR1NG F0RTH <MAN AND/0R CH1LDREN> 0NLY; F0R THY UNDAUNTED METTLE SH0ULD C0MP0SE N0TH1NG BUT MALES."

Groans echoed from the steadily thinning crowd as MACBETH's overloud, gratingly gradual enunciation rumbled across the theater. A few remaining groups continued to chuckle and converse amongst themselves, laughing at the expense of his botched theatrics and stilted poses. This kept dozens upon dozens of people within the likely danger area of the nanobot emitters above him, to his silent consternation. Though MACBETH's satisfaction in existence and justice allowed him a broad approximation of emotion, humor was something he truly could not understand.

"W1LL 1T N0T BE RECE1VED, WHEN WE HAVE <MARKET> W1TH BL00D TH0SE SLEEPY TW0 0F H1S 0WN CHAMBER AND USED THE1R VERY DAGGERS, THAT THEY HAVE <D0NUT>?"

MACBETH did not consider himself quirky or impulsive. Every move of his was calculated to effect justice, heroism, showmanship (a corollary of heroism), and safety for any beings under his heroic responsibility.

"1 AM SETTLED, AND BEND UP EACH C0RP0RAL AGENT T0 TH1S TERR1BLE FEAT."

Becoming MACBETH was the natural course of action. He could deliver lines at a volume calculated to be irritating to human senses, forcing civilians to retreat to safety from this contractually unstoppable performance. He could slow down the pace of the play, delaying its inevitable conclusion while <Joseph Banks> addressed the smoke machines above, now secured above the stage with a harness and tethers locked from MACBETH's own mass.

"AWAY, AND M0CK THE T1ME W1TH FA1REST SH0W:"

But most importantly, MACBETH knew how unlikely it was that the smoke machines would be successfully disabled. Despite <Joseph Banks> displaying a super-scientist's remarkable proclivity toward receiving violent electric shocks, that his skill would be able to subvert this arena's kill-mechanism was still quite improbable.

"FALSE FACE MUST H1DE WHAT THE FALSE HEART D0TH KN0W."

So if it came to the last of the final scene, MACBETH would force <Macduff>'s sword through his AI core, ending the round with his own life to stop the smoke machines.

It was the most logical, heroic course of action.


A scimitar-like blade of blinding, violet-hot energy erupted from the device in David's hand, blasting through his restraints as it enveloped itself in radiating heat and licks of indigo flame. David – nay, Macbeth – tore off his gag and joined the improvisation field onstage. The curtain attempted to close to end the scene; Macbeth shoved his weapon into it, spreading flames that reddened as they dissolved the drapes to ash.

"IMPOSTOR!"

MACBETH took immediate notice of the flames Macbeth was spreading, and fired a short burst of metallic orbs to stop him. They were met with expert swordsmanship, David's honed skills searing and splitting each shot into harmless, inactive putty.

"No iron monstrosity shall be crowned in my place! Have at thee!"

"You can't stop him," Nightowl shouted from the side. "If either of you lose onstage, it could set off the machines!"

[Solaris]

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WORD DIARRHEA

On his way back to the smoke machines, Joseph was listening to the rather eccentric happenings occurring around him. He was holding an ethereal wrench, with only one of the two prongs intact, but still imbued with some spectral energy. As he thought about his struggle with the machines, he felt a bit of relief. Well, at the very least I don't gots to deal with some silly men in tights or whateva-
In order, Joseph saw a flash, heard a gasp, and then felt a thud.

Turning around, high above the stage, and in front of him, was one of the actors.

Then he saw the actors head.
"WHOSHINGETINMAHWAYIIKILBLODALO!"
Right above this man, was someone dressed almost eerily like David.
"YOUILLGETYOUFERWHATYOADID!"
"Holy shit, it's that Macbeth..."

This Macbeth was angry for quite a few reasons.
The first was that his wife had just died. His castle was being taken under siege and he was previously been fighting a losing battle. All in all, Macbeth was giving into his rage far more than normal.
So, when the rather daft actor playing the role of Macduff had gone and decided to mess with some of the odd things from Joseph’s couch, he got a one-way ticket to the stage in the afterlife.
But that was not the extent of his frustration.
Upon setting his eyes on Joseph, something clicked in his anger wrought brain.
He had seen this man before, and this man had wronged him.

Back below down stage, the first two Macbeths were still fighting, while Sunspot and Night Owl were debating what to do.
"We have to stop them!"
"No, if the play stops the nano bots could go off and everyone would die!"

David continued his slashing, sending M.E.T.A.L. bits and flames all over the stage. Dahlia typed up a question as fast as she could, 'Is there anything we can get to stop the flames?
Beth thought for a moment..."Hmm, I think there might be something in the back... let's hurry!"

As the fire began to spread to the curtains, Night Owl said "We need to take care of these flames first."
"On it, hope you can take some spicy food."
The Super Duo flew to the curtains, sucking in the flames around the curtains, unfortunately, their efforts were for naught. David had spread the fires too far.

"Damn, this isn't working," Night Owl said while panting, "Maybe there's something on this side of the utility belt."
Sunspot was more focused above the stage, were he saw the large man dressed like David and Joseph struggling against him. "What... is that another Macbeth?"
Night Owl, focusing on his belt, instead set his eye down below, where he could have sworn he saw a silhouette of someone.
"It's probably a stage double... what is that down there, in the flames?"

The composite hero focused their attention to down below, where a shadow had appeared in the flames in the center of the stage. The shadow left them, without a single scratch on him. He was wrapped in a cloak, and had an odd air about him. He opened his arms out, sending a gust of wind across the stage.
"You bickering imposhters have done quite enough."
He jumped far higher than any man could, and drew a jet black sword. "My name'sh Macbeth. Count Macbeth. And I am quite tired ov you ruining my story."
The Count removed his cape and tossed it aside, continuing his walk to the other Macbeths.
"In all ov the centuries that I have sheen this tale told, I have never even thought it could be botched this badly. But oh, you did quite the number. This travesty endsh now, so says I, Count Macbeth, Slayer of Dracula!"
He clenched his fanged teeth and charged for them.

Meanwhile, the ladies were attempting to locate a fire extinguisher of some sort, unaware that their problem had been solved.
"YACANTBEATMEKID!"
Unfortunately, that didn't mean they would have any new problems.

Up until the arrival of the ladies, Joseph had been doing his best to parry the large scot that had been accosting him. The wrench, while made of a sturdy material, was definitively not suited for sword fighting. However, soon he would not have to.

Against Night Owl's wishes, who would have much preferred to make sure that the Macbeth's on stage wouldn't kill each other, Sunspot charged at the large man attacking Joseph. Despite tossing a powerful punch, the Macbeth still stood.

"Well.. that was unexpected. What do we do now?" The alien hero asked his other half.
"If we stay here we might put the others at risk, on the other hand we definitively don't need another Macbeth on stage."

However, Joseph had other thoughts on the matter. "Hey, is that all you've got ya oaf? Come at me!"
"RAAAAAAAAAAAG!"

The crazed Macbeth rushed forward, brushing all others aside. Joseph scurried back on to the stage, hoping to find something of use in his couch. However, the Macbeth did not follow.
For the berserk king faced down his three other selves.

The remaining audience was as flabbergasted at what was happening as they had been, but now, rather than scoff and leave in disgust, they were watching intently at the incredible scene. Four Macbeths, each claiming to be the real one. It was nowhere near accurate, but there was fire and swords, and that was all that really mattered.

[BlastYoBoots]

MACBETH had taken a few devastating strikes from David, his superheated weapon compromising as much as 6% of his mass with each slash.

72%... 71%...

He'd taken to locking the metal feathers in his wings, creating effective overlapping armor to deflect the violet sword. Still, it was receiving violent cuts, and each strike caused the active mass moving and holding it all in place to melt and drip to the ground, demanding fresh nanobot-metal to replace it.

65%... 64%...

"Yes, cower!" David pushed MACBETH further back, his shrinking figure impotently ensconced in a feathery shell. "None of woman born can stand against me!"

"1 AM AN AUT0MAT0N."

"Silence, iron brute!"

David was interrupted by a new sword to parry, some sort of ghostly glow protecting it from his weapon's violet heat. "THEERECANBEHONLEHHOOOONE!!"

As MACBETH backed off, he was forced to dodge a black swing from the Count. His processors had already confirmed him as the largest threat to the audience – an armed vampiric supervillain – and he locked some ornate iron crosses to toss to <Dahlia Finch>, <Sunspot Nightowl>, and <Joseph Banks> for protection. Though his much-diminished six-foot figure (he'd maintained only his head in a Macbeth-like shape since the fight started) was now adorned with cross imagery as well, MACBETH knew well how ineffective it would be without a faithful soul behind it.

"Not putting up mush ov a fight, are you, metal imposhtor? Perhapsh I should sheek more lively prey..." Hypnotized by the improvisation field, the Count turned towards the one-eyed knight-king and made a deadly leap.

MACBETH leapt as well. Coming between the two kings at inhuman speeds, he blocked the Count's strike with a fresh sword and Macbeth's counter-swing with his wings simultaneously.

"AYYE, YAWANNSAMMATHIS??"

"Jusht what shide are you on?!"

"JUST1CE!" MACBETH punctuated his proclamation by launching a sticky glob of metal into knight Macbeth's good eye.

58%... 57%...


Frick'n vampires? Joseph clutched the cross MACBETH had thrown him as he inched across the stage's background toward his couch. Jus' great. Thirs'y backstabbin' bitey bastards. Can't turn yer back on 'em for a second! C'mon, 'alfway there, jus' need ta– "OHHNOOYAADON!"

His old friend blocked his path, pointing a gleaming sword menacingly in his direction as he scraped the last blobs of metal from his eye. His directed hatred towards Joseph mixed with the improvisation field: "YERRGONNAGEYOURS, MACDUFF!"

At this word, David and the Count froze their skirmish, turning instead with furious expressions on the hapless 'Macduff'.

Joseph held his large cross tighter, brandishing it feebly at the approaching kings. "...Aw crap."

Suddenly, Sunspot and Nightowl descended in their way, flaunting a prop sword, prop crown, and one of METAL's large crosses around their neck.

"Halt, aggressors!" Sunspot's heroic voice rang across the stage. "None shall lay a hand on Macduff while I, Super Macbeth, still breathe!"

Nightowl's side of their body held their forehead in embarrassment.

[BlastYoBoots]

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Niall? Your private message box is full; you have to clear some space if you're going to receive PMs!

[Niall]

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Niall? Your private message box is full; you have to clear some space if you're going to receive PMs!

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No it's not. It never was! La la la la; I can't hear you!!! (OK, I've cleaned out my inbox. Should be fine now.)

[ch00_bakka]

RESERVE

[ch00_bakka]

It was him. (Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Goddammit gotta get th' fuck away!) Joseph quickly drew his old rusty sword. He held it up as the three Macbeths advanced on him, and the two other Macbeths held them off. (This 's getting' ridiculous. What th' hell is HE doin' HERE?) As Joe back bumped into the wall, Macbeth (Th' ORIGINAL, god-fuckin'-dammit) shouted, at the top of his lungs, (He never did have much a' an inside voice) "GODDAMMITMACFUFFYERGONNAGITYERS! YELLPAYFERYEGODDAMNDBTRAYL!" He swung his huge sword over his head, and brought it down towards where Joe was cowering against the wall. METAL's arm shot out and blocked the sword, but he couldn't get a good grip on the slick steel. Macbeth drew back, and prepared for another assault.

As the Thane prepared to attack again, METAL shouted, "UNKN0WN UN1T DES1GNATED <Macbeth Alpha>, CEASE AGGRES10N! UN1TS <David Whitcome> AND <Macbeth Beta>, CEASE A1D1NG UN1T <Macbeth Alpha>! ANY FURTHER AGGRESS10N T0 UN1T <Joseph Banks> W1LL BE DEALT W1TH SEVERELY BY 1, MACBETH PR1ME!" METAL grew a sword out of his arm, and stepped forwards to block the three angry Macbeths.

Sunspot muttered, just loud enough for his other half to hear, "The robot is dealing with the knight. Should we take the vampire or the actor?"

"The actor has the sword. But the vampire could be even more dangerous, especially if he manages to get someone under his thrall."

"So then what do we do? We can't actually defeat any of the Macbeths... That might set off the smoke machines."

Nightowl though in silence for a moment. "I know. Can I use the body for a moment?"

"Be my guest," the alien said, and relaxed his control over their shared body. Nightowl immediately leapt into action, swinging the cross METAL had thrown to him at the vampire. Count Macbeth leapt back as angry red welts started to form when the cross got to close, shouting, "That'sh cheating! That shouldn't work! It doesn't back at home!" Nightowl kept up his advance. It was good to know that the Count was on unfamiliar ground here. He maneuvered him backstage, whispering to Sunspot, "If he doesn't die onstage, the machines shouldn't go off. I hope." He looked around for something to use as a stake. He snatched up Joseph's guitar, and snapped the neck. Nightowl advanced on the vampire with his makeshift stake. The count yelled, "No! You will not defeat me! I am Count Macbeth! I shlayed the great Dracula himshelf! I am the Vampire Lord! You will-" He then fell back onto Joseph's couch. Nightowl took the opening, and sprung. The stake speared through the Count's heart and lodged in the couch. He went limp.

(Fuck. This goddamn actor keeps chasin' me. Thinks I'm Macduff. what th' hell's join' on here? First th' whole "battle" thing, 'n' then that BASTARD 'pears outa' NOWHERE, 'n' then EV'RYONE starts t' chase me. An' now th' ACTOR's chasin' me. With th' sword I stole fair 'n' square fr'm that bullshit might 'n th' future 'r somethin'. Ohshit. He's b'hind me. Shit shit shit. Agh! No! git th' fuck away! Nonononono-) David's sword pierced Joe's heart. The traveler fell to the ground. The couch was without an owner. It selected the nearest living being.

The floor shook as METAL attacked the king. Sunspot and Nightowl fell back onto the couch. At that moment, David speared Joe's heart. The couch, hero, and vampire were pulled through to the next world.

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Bluh. I really should have posted more. Sorry for slowing you guys down by procrastinating on the death post. Good luck to ya. I have to say METAL is my fav character. JUST1CE! I'm definitely gonna read the rest.

A note on Count Macbeth: in his world, vampires are simply inconvenienced by a stake through the heart. They appear dead until the point that someone removes the stake. When this happens, he will wake up on the couch with a hole in his chest and a very nasty rash from the cross. This carries over to this world. Some things are different from world to world, like the rash from the cross. You guys can decide which vampire myths carry over to the next world. Just keep the rejuvenation from stake removal, so you can have your own pet vampire. The couch actually belongs to the Count, but it follows the next available inter-universal portal, in this case the tunnel through which Sunspot/Nightowl is being pulled with the other two contestants. So the count will keep the couch. If the count dies for good, then the nearest living sentient being will be the couch's owner. It will follow them through any portals, warps, wormholes, etc. So if the count dies, and there's a gritty future-cyber-cop near, then he will own the couch and will have ADVENTURES! If, say, METAL is near the couch, it will follow him to the next round whether or not it's near him.

[Niall]

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NOOooOOoorrrrzzzooooOOOOOzzzzzbbreeeaghghhguuhhuugghhhh!! Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm........"

The surviving three contestants were instantly taken from the scene, once more suspended in nothingness. It was a brief stay, however- soon, they were whisked away again to somewhere else entirely. It was a derelict skyscraper from a civilisation gone by. Small, jet-fueled flying machines circled the upper levels, the noise of their high-pitched engines punctuated by the sound of laser fire and screams of terror, anguish and aggression. High-tech tech computers and gadgetry covered the walls of the rooms the contestants found themselves in, both of an administrative and military nature.

"...mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Ah! Uh huh huh HAAAA!!! Jo-uh huh huh-seph! I'm- huh huh huh - so - *sniff* - SORRY! Now you're dead and we're already gone and there's nothing I can do and I'm just so sorry. Uh huh huh!
What kind of sick, twisted, sadistic being would construct this device only to make its mind suffer as its body forces this unthinkable terror on... I can't bear it! I'm a monster! No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to think about it. No more thinking. Let's just get this over with. Just... just tear the bandaid off and it'll be done and this pain will end and there will be no more death.

...

OH but I can't just watch two more die like that! I have to do something! Listen to me! If there were a way to escape out of this battle, and I'm not saying there is, but if there were, then if I was programmed so that I could not alert you to this fact then do you think it is possible that I would attempt to alert you to such an escape by referring to it indirectly through a rhetorically formed question? Questions! Yes that's it! I'm not programmed against questions! Do you think that an escape may be possible by utilising that couch that belonged to the late Joseph Banks? Do you- No! I'm out of time! Before I go, please know this place is called Brambletown and you should be aware of the prescence of- BZZZzzzmmmm..."

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Yeah, way to not lay on the melodrama or the bad sound effects Niall. (I can do what I want. I'm hosting the damn thing! Or is the megalomaniacal? Hmmmm)

Welcome to Brambletown. Population: decreasing. Brambletown is, as per request, a post-apocalyptic cyber-punk world, so prepare for shootouts and ludicrous technology, oh yeah! The apocalyptic part of this world is that of a sentient robotic uprising bent on destroying all life-forms on their planet. Yes, cliche, but you'll have a lot of fun with it, especially considering a third of the remaining contestants are robot. I'm leaving a lot of detail as to who is who and what's going on, but here's a basic skeletal story: it's humanity's (or a another sentient life-form, it's up to whoever describes them first really, provided they're not from anyone's home world) last stand atop a large skyscraper that's currently being invaded by very hostile AIs. It's clear that the squishy beings are going down, but damn they're not going down without a fight. Unfortunately, it's a losing battle, because the robots don't have a clear frame of reference for the term overkill. They've just brought out their secret weapon: a giant, tunneling garbage incinerator that is so big it has the capability to slowly swallow entire buildings. That's right. The remaining contestants are in a building that is slowly sinking into the jaws of a massive robot that has tunneled under said building and is currently gobbling up friend and foe alike as it makes its way through the last basement level and slowly begins on the ground floor, sucking it up like a sword swallower, if the sword swallower has teeth made out of diamond tipped crushers and a stomach made of molten cement and can only get a tiny fraction of the sword in its mouth every minute (this metaphor fell apart at "diamond", but I think I'll live).
A bit complex yes, but maybe someone will die in the crossfire before the glorified trash compacter becomes an issue. It all depends on how often you post really. So good luck, have fun, write well, and please make my decision as hard as it can damn well get. You have a month, your time starts now.

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Word to the wise: don't write Mini-Grand posts at 1 in the morning. It's fun, but now I'm hallucinating bugs crawling under the carpet. Which is lava. I'm gonna go to bed now, provided I can make my way to my bed before all the furniture I'm going to climb across doesn't melt in the lava first.

[Solaris]

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I WILL WRITE TWEET TOWN FAN FICTION FOREVER
I
CANT
BE
TAMED

The cul-de-sac had changed over the years, into what was decidedly not a cul-de-sac at all. While Joanne McAffle's foray into selling the neighborhood and replacing it with a much grander locale was the first attempt, it was not the last. Years passed and each time it was the same. A McAffle would come and attempt to finish what the previous could not.

Miles McAffle was successful. The reportedly despicable real estate agent was able to sell each and every property on the neighborhood, and as if it was some game of monopoly, proceeded to immediately build a massive skyscraper with all sorts of functions.

It was the first of its kind, a self sustaining building with so many facilities and floors that it could have been a community all by itself. People from all over the world lived in the powerful building that was a symbol of how far we had gone. And to the McAffles, it was a personal victory as well.

And then the world went to the dogs. Almost quite literally so.
The K-9000 units were the first robots with very advanced A.I. and in a slightly indirect way; they caused each and every problem that would plague humanity from that day on.

The K-9000 was programmed to hunt criminals; it had all of the required copping tools, internal GPS, emergency manual control, a moral core, all of the things one would normally program a policing robot with. Unfortunately, they didn't stop there. Slowly, the K-9000 unites were upgraded, in intelligence, strength, and rank. Soon, the ultra-sophisticated animals were made in charge of the whole planet's policing, just as similar robots based off of the K-9000 model were made available.

And that's where the problems began. While the programming worked wonders for the policing robots, it wasn't made with alterations in mind. So, when the initial code was adapted for other uses, things got rather hairy. The manufacturers knew that some parts of the code were a bit unstable, but they all hoped that it wouldn't be that big of a deal.
As it turned out, they were unarguably and absolutely wrong.

So the various K-9000 off shoots malfunctioned, at first they just refused orders, but like all these things, it magnified. The situation grew more and more dire as the shoddily coded canine machines flipped the fuck out and decided to go insane. Humanity fought the good fight, but at this point most of them had been left lazy and unprepared for actual fighting, having left such things to the dogs.

One great exception to this was the McAffles.


When Sunspot and Night Owl regained their composure, standing beside Joseph’s couch and looking quizzically at the dead vampire on it, they immediately knew what they had to do.
"Let's go."
The duo flew out of the window, and spiraled out the building.

Looking at the world outside left the heroic pair in sorrow but ever more determined to put a stop to this terrible future. The building was surrounded by various robots of different designs, some of them were being shot at from the floors above, but for every robot destroyed, three more took its place. They silently re-entered the building and began to descend.

Before he could say a word he had a gun pointed at him.

"What are you and give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your split head off."
The woman armed to the teeth and very prepared to shoot at the hero was still young, in her thirties, but very healthy and obviously full of energy. She was sort of plain, but still a bit recognizable, she was wearing a green suit and was armed from head to toe with all sorts of unrecognizable weaponry.
"Well?"

"I'm Night Owl, this half is Sunspot, due to a spell we were forced into one body. We were then teleported across the universe for a battle to the death."
Sunspot cut Night Owl off, "We are here to stop the robot underground, step aside."

"Oh really now? What a coincidence, I was just on my way there."

"We would prefer not to take anyone with us, it's too dangerous."

The woman scoffed. "Do you know who I am? I am Joanne McAffle. I own this building. My family has been preparing for this for a while now. Danger is not an issue, hero. I'm going to take this thing down; you can come along if you'd like." With a wink, Joanne ran off to the rooms below, with Sunspot and Night Owl following behind.

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With apologies to Wheeeeeeathins

[Niall]

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Oh right, the Tweet Town thing.

I'm sure in out correspondence that I decided we weren't going to include Tweet Town, but it's OK if you missed it Solaris. Look, I'll allow the post, but I'm very concerned that BYB has a disadvantage here as he is the only contestant that wasn't a part of Tweet Town. BYB, I'd like to hear your opinion. If you're cool with adding elements from a popular mafia game into this round then so am I, but if not then we might scrap any futher references to Tweet Town. Sorry, but I gotta be impartial here.

EDIT:

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Alright. We're good. Now go forth and multipost!

[Solaris]

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ten days of waiting for you two means i write more fan fic

"So... what caused all of... this?"
Reluctantly following Joanne into the lower floors of the building, Night Owl took this time to place information gathering at the top of his priority list.

"Well... that's a toughie." Joanne looked to the side momentarily before continuing, "Now, I haven't gotten the full list yet, but long story short, some time ago some scientists decided to make sentient dog robots. We used them and other models, gorillas, cats, Dodo Birds, for pretty much each and every part of normal life. Later, BIG SURPRISE, they went fuckin crazy and began to try to take over the world."

Sunspot held his mouth agape at the tragedy, Night Owl clenched his fist. "But... we saw so much destruction... how long has it been like this?"

"Few weeks."

"Weeks? All of this destruction was caused in a few weeks?" For emphasis, Sunspot pointed out of the window, accidentally letting loose a ball of flame. "What about law enforcement, the army, or heroes?"

"The robots were the police and army, and you're the first flying guy in tights we've had around here."

Once more there was silence. Night Owl broke it. "So what makes you different? Why has the rest of the world fallen so easily while you did not."

Joanne let a sly smirk appear. She stopped her walk for a moment and posed."Easy. We McAffles were prepared. We don't like dogs. Never have. So we had a cache of supplies just for the occasion."

"Bu-"

*crack*
Joanne lifted a radio to her ear. "Yea? Uh-huh? Got it. Over and out." She did not look pleased.

"What happened?"

"It seems that a robot got in the building. He hasn't done anything yet, but he looks a bit tough and we've got nothing all the way where he is." She placed the radio back and bit at her thumb, her foot tapping with her thoughts. Then it hit her. "Could you?"

"What about the worm?" and "We can't let you go alone!" were quickly replied.

"Look, we can't let a robot loose on this building, it is our last hope. I can't get up there fast enough, only you two can. I can deal with this myself. After a bit she added, "Please."

The heroic duo grumbled a bit, deciding that it would be the logical thing to do... before Night Owl remembered a certain contestant and asked for the radio.

"Describe the robot to me."

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boots that is p. much a cue for you btw