KH-Vids Royale III

Discussion in 'The Spam Zone' started by Roxas, Dec 6, 2021.

  1. Roxas OG

    Joined:
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    Location:
    Cin's basement
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    041

    Side by side, step by step, forty Organization members marched down the tunnel toward the dormitory. At their head was Roxas, looking more threatening than ever with a machine gun bouncing against his chest. He wasn’t usually armed. But the game had changed. His beloved players had tried to escape and murder him. He couldn’t blame them. Not after what he’d put them through. But he knew now that all bets were off. Most of the game’s twists were by his own machination, but this latest one he did not see coming. It troubled him. And the proof was all around. Why else did he need a troop to accompany him to meet his players? Did they scare him that much?
    The black, metal walls seemed so uninviting now, a void he’d rather not stare into. It all seemed plastic, fake - the fun of the game was ruined. He saw the island as it really was: an old movie set, repurposed for the game. The veneer had rubbed away and the knotted reality beneath appeared. Soon, the game will end. An end that’s been long in sight. And when that finally happens-
    “Halt!”
    Behind him, an Org goon shouted. The members fell in line. Roxas snapped out of thought and looked ahead. They’d reached the dormitory.
    Someone walked ahead and used their fingerprint to unlock a keypad. A code was entered and the door opened. Roxas had turned off the fog machines. The mood was bleaker than usual as the giant metal panel groaned with no accompanying theatrics. When it opened, he saw the disheveled, horrified members of KH-Vids who still lived.
    He walked forward, no fantastic speech prepared this time, and looked out at the nine who yet played; the unlucky ones, in his mind. He pitied them the most.
    Lauriam… the poor girl had made such an effort during the game. She was smart, no doubt, but was it enough? Roxas wondered whether the next challenge would simply be too much for her. But there was a certain cunning he couldn’t quite calculate. Regardless, he was excited to see how she’d fare.
    Player number two was Mish. He still remembered writing her invitation; it was the first he’d written. She was also the first to respond. A pang of guilt always tore through him when he saw her, but he’d compartmentalized that betrayal long ago. What he’d done to her was unfair and it would fuel her more in the game to come. She has a chance. But, so does anyone…
    Misty had survived, too. Roxas couldn’t even look her way. Their messages were the ones he treasured most when he logged back into the website, and her face when she looked at him seemed to reflect the same emotions. The seething hatred that came with it, though, was what broke him. He briefly caught her eye, and for one second he wanted to freeze time so he could talk to her - but he was the Composer. He had to move on.
    Next to her stood Cia. Her arms were wrapped around herself while she shivered. Once, she was special to him. But what had he done to her now? To all of them? The next challenge would break them - would she be ready, looking so scared and so helpless?
    He turned his gaze to Cin. His old friend stared back, his eyes fierce. There was a bloodthirstiness there. Surely he could handle whatever was thrown at him. But even then, he’d gotten lucky. Roxas had laughed when he found out that Cin got the souped up tracker as his random weapon. And now here he was. It all made sense.
    Aelin had transformed over the course of the game - at first, helpless, but after losing Arch something had changed. She had many fans in the outer world who were rooting for her to make a comeback. One of chat’s favorites. Let’s hope you don’t let them all down.
    A few beds over, Risk was the only one still sitting. His movements during capture the flag had provided excellent coverage of the island. Internet statisticians had his distance traveled and steps taken in the top percentile among the game’s participants. Tired legs, eh? You better give them a stretch.
    C seemed completely unbothered by the abrupt entrance of forty armed men. He had wit and athleticism in spades, and both had kept him in the game so far. His duel with Evil was one of the most replayed clips from the first challenge. Fan-girls were praying he’d make it to the end of the game - there would be no end to the suitors who’d line up for him if he was to make it to the other side.
    Finally, Roxas turned to Tamale. The kid had managed to skirt death a few times and even learned how to take someone out along the way. Of all the people here, his experience in the game so far would prepare him for the next challenge more than any.
    There were the final pieces of his puzzle. It was time to see who would make it to the very end.
    “My friends,” Roxas said, emotionless. “It’s been a long game. We’ve all seen a lot… and some of us have done things we’d never thought we’d do. Crazy what you’ll do when you have no other choice, isn’t it?”
    The remaining players stirred uncomfortably.
    “Yet here you are - survivors. Through everything that’s transpired, you managed to make it here today. You are the final nine. Thus, I am here to explain to you the third challenge.”
    His words echoed around the room. Misty raised her hand.
    “Roxas?”
    He nodded.
    “You said we were the final nine. What about the others? Calxiyn, and Blaine?”
    “Your little escape plot was a failure,” Roxas sighed, shaking his head. “We kinda got in the way of that, so… sorry.” A smile flickered across his thin lips. “Yozora become Yozero at the docks. He tried to take me out on the way. Don’t blame him, honestly. I am that kinda guy you just wanna kill. Anyway, we shredded him. As for Blaine and Calxiyn, well…”
    Roxas looked at the ceiling, and everyone’s gaze followed.
    “...Drop them.”
    Two panels in the ceiling opened and Blaine and Calxiyn fell through. Their bodies twirled as they plummeted until the ropes around their necks snagged and stopped them. Calxiyn’s neck broke immediately, her body limp. Blaine, his arms tied behind him, wasn’t as lucky; he kicked about for a minute as blood ran down his body, the bone in his neck exposed.
    “This is the punishment for trying to take the Composer’s life! For trying to escape the island!”
    The remaining players had to close their eyes and look away as Blaine gargled on his own blood.
    “I hope I’ve made my message clear. Take them up.”
    Blaine, his body finally still, was lifted through the ceiling. He and Calxiyn disappeared into the void and the panels closed back up.
    Shock filled the room. Roxas waited for it to dissipate before he carried on.
    “Now,” he cleared his throat. “Let us go over challenge number three.”

    9 players remaining
     
  2. Aelin Best Waifu

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    That Yozora pun was bad and you should feel bad
     
  3. Roxas OG

    Joined:
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    Cin's basement
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    Mish watched the bodies of Blaine and Calxiyn disappear into the ceiling. It was evident what would have happened if they’d gone through with Cin’s plan to find Roxas - he had no interest in rekindling old friendships. Since the game had begun, Mish wondered whether she could get through to him if given the chance. Not only had that chance not come, the probability of him changing his mind was non-existent. It almost felt like he was a different person now. As if I’ll have a chance to speak with him, anyway.
    “Let us go over challenge number three,” Roxas announced. “The final challenge.”
    Final…? Mish looked around at her friends. If this was the final challenge, then there would only be one of them left come the end of it. There’s still so many of us. The first night of the game came back to her. Roxas had noted an important rule, then; there could be more than one winner. Did that mean this challenge, too, would have more than one winner?
    “Yeah, we’re at the finish line,” Roxas said. She heard a hint of sadness in his voice. “I just wanna say to everyone here… damn, guys. You really put on a great show. The numbers are in and almost 8% of the world’s population are watching the game at any given time. I was speechless when they told me. But, my theory was correct. We’re so desensitized to violence - so used to it - that we were only a stone’s throw away from broadcasting something like this. And now the tipping point has come, and we have thrown ourselves as society over the edge into whatever lies beyond. Death is now officially a spectator sport, and all sports must have a winner.”
    The outside world seemed so far away now, and Mish couldn’t begin to imagine a reality where millions were tuning into something like this. Maybe it was all a lie to rile them up into playing harder and killing each other faster, but Roxas’s point struck a chord with her. Nothing she’d seen out here was new, in the sense that any movie or even news broadcast of war contained much of what she’d seen with her own eyes. Perhaps this really was what the people wanted; what they’d been programmed to consume.
    “The third challenge is a deathmatch,” Roxas said. From the corner of her eye, she saw a few heads turn. “With a twist, of course. There will be three rounds, with three players each. For those of you not doing the math yet, that means three people will emerge from this challenge - or, the Final Three, as I’m calling them. Branding stuff; don’t worry about it.”
    Mish noticed how many people were looking at the cash. All that split between three people was still more than anyone in the world needed. She knew how close she was now, but it was never about the money for her, anyway. I guess it’ll help wash this all off. Speaking of washing, when was the last time she'd showered?
    “The twist? Well… you know all the random weapons you got before? They’re gone now. I don’t care how useful you thought your uzi or shotgun was, because you can forget about ‘em.”
    Mish sighed - her Glock had kept her feeling confident.
    “You'll be provided new weapons during the challenge, so don’t worry; it won’t just be a fist fight.”
    Roxas held up his arm and a group of Organization members walked forward. “You,” they said, pointing at Lauriam. “Up here.” Lauriam looked around for help before she walked onto the platform. Two of the grunts grabbed her shoulders and led her toward the back of the stage.
    “You!” Mish looked up. Another set of Organization members were pointing at her now. “Player number two, come forward.”
    “What’s happening?” she asked. Roxas looked her way.
    “No worries, Mish. They’re leading you to the arena.”
    “The arena…?”
    Before she had time to think about it more, the members came off the platform and grabbed her. “Stop!” she screamed. “I was coming!”
    Behind her, she saw Misty getting retrieved as well. “Where are you taking me?” she screamed.
    “They’re taking you to the next challenge, everyone,” Roxas explained, pushing his hands to the ground in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “Relax and enjoy the ride.”
    Mish was swept into the tunnel and rushed forward. She saw Lauriam’s pink hair shining up ahead.
    “Keep moving!” the Org member holding her left arm shouted. Jesus, man, it’s not like I can power walk any faster than I am.
    It wasn’t long before the tunnel opened. There, a yellow school bus waited. She’d seen them on television but had never ridden one herself. The goons shoved her inside and she saw gray, plastic seats waiting. Lauriam sat at the back.
    “Take a seat, player two!”
    Behind her, Misty was waiting to get on the bus. Mish walked up a few rows and sat down. Misty followed, and one-by-one, the rest of the players joined the bus. When Cin entered, he sat down next to her.
    “Hey, Mish,” he said. “You okay?”
    She turned from the window. “Yeah… wish I had my gun, though.”
    “And I wish I had my tracker. Our plan's ****ed.”
    “We failed,” Mish said. “We couldn’t get people to cooperate. And now look at where we are. We're doomed.”
    Everyone had sat down on the bus, and an armed driver and a pair of bodyguards joined them. The bus pulled away, heading west past the abandoned shops. Mish, having gone to both the volcano and ruins, had never been to this part of the island before.
    “Maybe there’s another way,” Cin thought aloud. “If we can corner him during this deathmatch, we can have our chance.”
    “Cin, I don’t think it’s going to happen,” Mish told him. “This is the final challenge. There won’t be many of us left after this. When will we have the numbers to make a real stand?”
    He seemed dejected. “I’m sorry. But let’s be reasonable, dude. Let’s make this 'Final Three.' We need to survive this so we can see him after.”
    “If we make it, Mish…”
    “I know how badly you wanted to find him and end this before too many of us died. But here we are, only nine of us left, marching hastily into the final challenge to die again… We were never supposed to stop it. Whatever’s happening is beyond our control.”
    They sat in silence as the bus followed the road along the island’s coast. Mish heard someone crying behind her and decided not to look out of respect. She looked out the window instead. The sky was orange, the sun just above the horizon. It was early in the morning and a small fog had yet to lift. As the minutes passed, the mist parted and Mish saw the humps of the sand dunes in the distance. There, a giant structure rose into the air.
    “Cin,” she said, patting his shoulder. He turned. “I see something.”
    She pointed out the window and he followed her gaze. The gargantuan structure seemed to have an oval shape. Its white walls gleamed in the sunrise and giant metal bars held up its roof.
    “That is an arena,” Cin gasped. “When Roxas said that, I didn’t think he meant an actual stadium.”
    A low buzzing sound began to carry through the window. Mish ignored it at first, but it began to grow in volume to the point where everyone on the bus was looking about. “You hear that?” she asked.
    “I do,” said Cin. “Is it waves building? Music at the arena?”
    “Not music,” Mish said, realizing what it might be. She’d heard it before when the local football team played at the grounds only a quarter kilometer from her. It was the rising sound of a crowd. “It’s people.”
    The bus turned off the road and onto the sand. Several cactuses were squashed as it barreled toward the stadium, a cloud of dust in its wake. The dunes grew shorter as the sand flattened into a desert and they reached the entrance to the arena. Mish felt Cin grab her hand as two giant doors slowly opened. The driver waited as the chains groaned and pulled, then put the bus back into gear and drove inside.
    “God help us,” Cin whispered.
    YEEAAAH!!!
    Mish flinched at the roar of the crowd. The risers seemed to touch the sky, each seat filled with faces jubilant for the sight of blood. The stadium had all the fixings; LED scoreboards, a complex light system that illuminated the battlefield, and a central television that broadcast the action. They had stopped at the edge of the arena, an oval full of sand. Steam hissed from the bus as the door opened. A splash of vomit hit the floor behind them.
    “Players!” the driver shouted over the crowd. “Exit the bus and walk to the center of the arena. Roxas will announce the game’s rules once you are there.”
    “This is so messed up,” Cin said. "How could these people be here? Won't they save us?"
    “They’ve been watching us all along from home,” Mish replied, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Now they’re here. What's the difference?” It felt surreal. Disturbing. She could barely walk as they were ushered off the bus one by one.
    The sun was so bright now, she had to cover her eyes as it gleamed off the dazzling walls of the arena. Her eyes adjusted and she felt the full depth of the sound as the ground rumbled beneath her. She stumbled along next to Cin until they reached a circle pit at the center.
    A happy trumpet melody began to play and the audience slowly grew quiet. The song swelled until it reached its apex, and then Mish heard the familiar sound that had followed them across the island: doo-doo-dah!
    On the giant screens, she watched Roxas walk out on a balcony. He had a headset on, its little microphone covering a gleaming smile. The ******* must love this, she shook her head. All this attention. Ugh.
    Cin whispered her name and she looked at him. “It’ll be okay.”
    “Friends!” Roxas smiled into the camera. “It is such an honor to be with you here today, for our final challenge. Now presenting… the one… the only… KH-Vids Deathmatch!”
    The noise that followed was immense, a roar of a crowd so hungry for action it might be ready to rip itself to shreds if the players didn’t get to it first, mixed with Jock Jam’s Are You Ready For This? played at an obscenely loud volume.
    “It’s time for the rules,” Roxas grinned. “So pay attention, players.”

    9 players remaining
     
  4. Aelin Best Waifu

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    Well this sucks. Come on people, be reasonable don't cheer for this
     
  5. Yukai Traverse Town Homebody

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  6. Mish smiley day!

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    Is my fictional husband there cheering for my death for emotionally cheating on him with Cin?
     
  7. Roxas OG

    Joined:
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    “In this challenge, three players will enter the arena and only one will exit. Each of you will receive a weapon at random, which you will find placed in a box in your third of the arena. As your names are pulled from the pot, you will walk into the pit and choose a third. You can not open the box until I say so. When you are instructed to, open your box and pull out your weapon. I will then announce the beginning of the fight. Once two of the three people in the pit are officially dead, the round will be called. If you are pushed out of the edge of the arena or leave it in any way, your microchip will explode.”
    The giant television screens began to flash stock photos of the last nine players like it was the beginning of a football match. C watched as Lauriam’s stats were shown, then Mish’s. People started going crazy when she appeared onscreen. Players flashed by in consecutive order, and when he popped up himself a section of the crowd began to scream and jeer. He swore he heard multiple voices saying they loved him… but why would they be saying that? Did he have fans? Did they all have fans?
    “Place your bets on your favorite players now, folks!” Everyone whipped out their phones.
    The players knew they were being watched, but being trapped on that little island had tricked C into thinking everything that happened there was isolated. In reality, what was happening now had been happening all along; he’d just been protected from it. Would this be me? he wondered, turning and taking in the massive audience.
    “I’m sorry, everyone,” Risk said to the group. “I know we’re all friends, but I’m going to play.”
    There was an uncomfortable silence. C glanced at Mish; they’d been friends for so long. Could he really kill her if they had to fight each other? What about Cin? Do I have it in me?
    “I suppose that’s fair,” Lauriam said to Risk. “I’ll play, too. Let’s not make this any more difficult on ourselves.”
    “I don’t want to,” Tamale frowned. He meekly ran his shoe through the sand. “But… I’ll play, too. Live or die, I just want this to be over.”
    “I can agree with you there,” Aelin whispered to herself. C looked at her.
    “You, too?” he asked. “And you, Mish? Cin?”
    They turned to look at him but said nothing. That was all the answer he needed, really.
    Adrenaline was high, and the crowd only made things more edgy. Of course no one was interested in trying to hash it out. He knew it wasn’t worth a brave speech, even though he wanted to try it. What the **** were they going to do, anyway? This was their future, and soon, that future for two-thirds of them would no longer exist. He flexed a bit and almost began to laugh at himself. Have a stretch maybe, dumbass. It sounded like his groupies in the audience were fans of the flex, though. He heard his name being called and he turned away, blushing.
    Tamale’s words rang with him. Live or die, this would soon be over. Death or freedom; either was a sweet release.
    “Now players,” Roxas smiled. He might as well have been wearing a crown up on that platform, looking out over them. C was getting Shrek vibes; he felt like one of Lord Farquad’s sacrifices as he stood helpless, waiting for things to start. A part of him hoped he’d be in the first round so he could get things over with.
    “I’m sure you’re all standing on pins and needles, so let’s figure out who will be playing in our first round! Bring out the boxes!”
    The crowd went ballistic as Organization members carried boxes down into the pit. Two of them were long and thin and the other was square. They were like presents, and whoever got chosen first would have the opportunity to choose their weapon based off the look of the box, apparently. C crossed his fingers and began to pray he’d get chosen first, whatever round he was in.
    After the boxes had been placed in the pit, the players were asked to move to a set of seats next to it. “Sit here,” an Org goon said, shoving C toward small bleachers. He sat down on the cold metal and looked into the pit. It was a bowl about six feet deep, with a sandy slope that led down inside. Each “third” of the arena wasn’t marked other than a circle that went around the entire edge, but the boxes had been placed around its perimeter in a way that would ensure the players began at opposite parts of the pit. The radius was between 30 and 40 meters. There was plenty of space to move about, but nowhere to hide. If someone was lucky enough to open a ranged weapon, they'd be unbeatable.
    “Now it’s time for the lottery! Let’s see who’s playing in round one, friends.”
    On the huge LED screens, a lotto number pot appeared with nine balls in it. A happy jingle played as the balls spun about.
    “Let’s pick our first ball,” Roxas shouted into the microphone. His hand smacked a giant button and the balls stopped moving. One rolled out.
    “Player number twenty-four - Risk!”
    Risk stood as the crowd went wild. His face appeared on the screen and he was instructed to walk into the pit and choose a weapon. Risk glanced back at them before he disappeared over the lip. C got up from his seat to peer in and see what Risk went for. He was looking between the two long boxes, and finally chose the one on the right. When he reached it, he sat down and waited. The screens lit up again and the jingle started playing.
    “It’s time for our second fighter,” Roxas laughed. The balls bounced around inside the animated lotto pot and he smacked the button again. Another ball rolled out and its number appeared on screen. C recognized it immediately; twenty-five.
    “Player number twenty-five - C!”
    The noise from the crowd was twice as loud this time as women cheered from all corners of the stadium. There was no mistaking it; they were going crazy for him.
    “Stand, player twenty-five!” C got up quickly, not trying to irritate the Org members. He lifted an arm to acknowledge all the cheering - it just felt right. It only caused the frenzy to double as C’s fangirls were finally legitimized by the man himself. He stepped down into the pit and saw a difficult choice before him.
    The stocky box could be anything I guess, but the long box looks more like a weapon. Is it a bat or something? He had no idea what would be in them, but he had to make up his mind. Something about the longer box seemed promising, so he went that way. More cheers followed; the crowd agreed with his choice.
    “We need one more player, don’t we?” Roxas said. “Let’s figure out who that is!”
    Screens lit up one more time as the virtual lotto returned. Roxas, eager to see who would be in the challenge, immediately smacked the button. C watched the balls bounce about as they began to settle down. It felt like an eternity compared to the others, but finally, a ball rolled out.
    “Player number two - Mish!”
    C gulped. He knew it was going to happen this way.
    Mish walked down into the pit and looked at him on her way by. She hadn’t acknowledged him earlier, so he assumed she was going to go for it ruthlessly. And he knew Risk was only interested in playing himself. Could this be any worse for him?
    Dammit, he cursed to himself. There’s no clever way out of this.
    “Open your boxes, players! Let’s see what you got!”
    C tore into his box. Inside was a Dream Staff, just like the one from the Dive to the Heart at the beginning of Kingdom Hearts. Wait -seriously!? He pulled it out and was surprised by how light it was. He pointed it skyward and the sun gleamed off the blue Mickey Mouse head at the top. Spikes had been attached to it to make it at least somewhat dangerous.
    He looked up at Risk. In his hands was the Dream Sword. Mish had the Dream Shield.
    For ****’s sake.
    But there was no time to think about it. Roxas stood on the balcony and raised his arms up.
    “World - this is the moment we have all been waiting for! Players, fight!!!

    9 players remaining
     
  8. Aelin Best Waifu

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    I feel all these "random" pairings are going to be cruel. But at least there is no guns, that will make this interesting.
     
  9. Mish smiley day!

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  10. rikusorakairiown Destiny Islands Resident

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    Sorry Chras but unlike in Makaze's games I'm not feeding you a win this time
     
  11. C This silence is mine

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    Everyone knows that the staff is the best choice in KH
     
  12. Yukai Traverse Town Homebody

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    For all we know, the staff has gasoline cartridges for a flamethrower component. Or can be hooked up to devices around the arena to make a freezing wand or a shock wand or something.
     
  13. Roxas OG

    Joined:
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    I haven't forgotten about the story.

    Just a crazy last couple of weeks.

    Hold tight, the best is yet to come and it's coming very soon.
     
  14. Roxas OG

    Joined:
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    The weight of the Dream Sword in Risk’s hand was almost too much for him. Its sharp blade, made of pure steel, extended nearly four feet from the hilt. A shame we can’t have video game physics here, he frowned, imagining Sora’s frail arms holding such a massive weapon. Mish, with the Dream Shield, was already crouched in her corner of the arena, waiting for someone to come for her. C, on the other hand, was staring across the sand directly at him. With the Dream Staff, he posed a greater threat - but surely, regardless of outcome, Risk had chosen the best weapon of the lot.
    C clicked something on his staff and a flame jet roared from the top like a blow torch. The crowd ooh’d and aah’d at the pretty colors. Risk began to sweat a bit, his sword slightly less advantageous than it had looked ten seconds ago.
    Maybe there are secrets in my weapon I don’t know about yet, Risk thought to himself. Something as crazy as that, hopefully. He looked down at this sword, which had a big red Hidden Mickey symbol engraved on its hilt. His finger brushed across it and he felt a button begin to push, but retracted his finger before he pushed it down all the way. Perhaps this is the key, he thought. But save it. The element of surprise will be your true advantage.
    Fight! Fight! Fight!
    Risk looked up at the giant screens surrounding the arena and saw himself staring back. At the edge of the pit, his fellow KH-Vids members looked on in fear. The crowd was eager.
    Fiiiiiiiiight!
    C charged. The circle was wide enough that Risk could run forward to meet him. Cameras zoomed in and spun wildly around the two as they reached the center. Risk leaped into the air and raised his weapon.
    “Sorry, bud,” he spat, bringing down the sword as he fell through the air. C lifted the staff and broke his strike. Sparks flew as the bits of metal clanged off each other. Risk felt a spasm go through his arm and he almost dropped the sword as he fell to the ground.
    Suddenly, the staff was pointed in his face. He rolled to the right before C activated the staff’s fire plume. Risk felt a bit of his hair singe and turned to see a blackened spot left in the sand. He looked up to see the Dream Staff flying through the air toward his chest. Risk aimlessly swung his sword, which luckily caught the staff and sent it careening out of C's hand.
    “****!” C screamed, grabbing his forearm. Risk swiped the end of the sword at C’s face and caught him on the bridge of the nose. Something splintered and blood showered the ground. C fell to the ground, his hand grabbing the staff that landed next to him just in time to block a blow to the chest from Risk’s sword. Another plume of fire erupted into the hot island air and Risk jumped back, sweating harder now. C, his upper body covered in blood, gripped the staff with both hands to reveal his deformed, nose-less face.
    The women in the crowd screamed and some fainted as the cameras zoomed in on C, but Risk tried not to get distracted by the huge TVs as he charged once more. Their sword and staff traded blow after blow as sparks, sweat, and flecks of blood flew around them, dotting the sand in their wake. Exhausted, Risk fell to the ground, the sword’s heavy weight becoming a pain point. C took a moment to catch his breath too, his appearance changed now that the blood had formed a crimson beard on his neck and chest.
    He’s weak, Risk realized. Get him.
    He jumped up and used all his strength to bring the sword down as hard as he could, but C still had strength, too, and when their weapons clashed, they both flew from their hands and landed in the dirt. Risk fell to his knees, his arms in pain where the reverberations from the metal had cut through to the bone.
    The heat was too much, and now that the sun was high enough to break the top of the stands, buckets of sweat were pouring off Risk. C coughed and got to his knees, crawling for the sword.
    ****.
    Risk began scrambling, but he could tell C would make it there first. He turned to see the Dream Staff a few meters away. It wasn’t the weapon he’d chosen, but it would do. The tingling feeling had returned to his arms and he got up to run for the sword when an enormous object caught him in the midriff and sent him flying.
    “Gah!” he shouted, eyes closed, hands on his stomach. His body landed in the dirt and twisted violently as he came crashing to a stop. The crowd went insane, and as he looked up at the swirling sky, he realized the Dream Shield had been responsible. Momentarily winded, Risk clawed for air, a thick pain at the center of his body, and when his breath came back his vision seemed to right back into place. Mish stood above him, about to bring the shield down on his knees and shins.
    Roll, you idiot.
    Risk spun to the left and heard the bottom of the shield crunch into the ground where his shins had just been. He did a backward somersault and landed on his feet, just in time to notice C charging at him with the sword. Risk pivoted dexterously to the side, sucking in his stomach. The blade of the sword only slightly grazed him, and a bit of blood leaked out onto his clothes. C fell forward from its weight, leaving an opening. Risk dived for the staff, ignoring the other two competitors completely; he needed that weapon, or he was screwed. His body hit the ground but he ignored the pain as his hand gripped the staff. It was so much lighter than the sword, he almost laughed.
    But there was hardly anything funny about C coming down on him with the sword. Risk turned swiftly and held both ends of the staff as the sword crashed down in the middle. Hot sparks tinged his cheeks and he felt like he had to close his eyes, but he kept them open, the blade only inches from splitting his face. Finally, C grew tired and pulled back, the sword banging against the ground in his exhaustion.
    Glancing both ways, Risk noticed Mish had retreated back behind her shield. I’ll take care of you after, he strategized, and charged straight for C. Tired, bleeding and broken, C raised the sword in the air and blocked the first glance from the staff. But Risk kept smashing away until the sword fell from his hands.
    “I’m sorry, C,” Risk said, pointing the staff at his face. He saw Mish cowering behind her shield, afraid to move in on the action. “You had a good run.”
    His finger moved for the button on the staff’s handle and thousands of C’s fangirls clutched their faces, screaming.
    But before he could press it, Risk felt his feet fly out from underneath him. C’s leg had caught him unaware. Idiot!
    By the time he hit the ground, the staff had clattered to the arena floor a meter away. C stood up, the Dream Sword in hand. Risk gulped, trying to pull his body toward the staff, but the bruising on his stomach and the blood leaking from his wounds was beginning to catch up with him. He turned, looked at C, and prepared to accept his fate.
    "Gotcha," C said, pressing the Hidden Mickey emblem on the sword. Its blade flew from the hilt like a bullet, piercing Risk's heart and lungs.

    ---​

    Behind her shield, Mish watched Risk’s arms and legs twitch as the last bit of life left his body. The roar of relief from the crowd seemed appropriate after the C fanclub had its heartstrings pulled and tugged, but now Mish and C were in the arena alone. And that meant she’d have to kill her friend.
    If I can…
    It seemed impossible - and even if she had the heart to do so, C now had a weapon in each hand. He approached her, staggering, his nose caved in, blood covering his chest. The two weapons fell from his hands as he lost the strength in his legs and collapsed. Mish threw her shield to the side and ran forward, catching him before his body hit the ground.
    “Help me up, Mish,” he coughed.
    “C…” she said, a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
    “We have to fight, don’t we?” Blood on his lips splattered her tracksuit. “Take me to the edge, Mish. We can fight…” He coughed again. “We can fight there…”
    “O-okay,” Mish said, lifting C, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She left the weapons behind and dragged him to the edge of the pit. The crowd was silent now, wondering what was going on.
    “Lay me here,” C said, his breathing heavy. She laid him down and he grabbed her hand and held it as tightly as he could.
    “I could never kill you,” he said, water forming in his eyes. “Not you, Mish. Not my friend.”
    She smiled and closed her eyes, remembering all the amazing times they’d spent together.
    “Not if it’s what he wants,” C said, coughing. “What they all want.”
    Mish nodded, and a tear fell from her eye and landed on C’s face.
    “Kill him for me,” C said, and his eyes began to close. “For everything he’s done to all of us.”
    “I don’t want you to go,” Mish cried. “Not yet.”
    “There can only be one winner,” C said, and she thought a smile flickered across his lips. He let go of her hand and rolled out of the pit. The microchip in his neck began to beep. “Say hi to Sam for me."
    The microchip exploded and the first round ended.

    7 players remaining
     
  15. Mish smiley day!

    Joined:
    Sep 30, 2006
    Gender:
    gal
    Location:
    Nuke York.
    983
    [​IMG]

    ok that is just awful of me
     
  16. rikusorakairiown Destiny Islands Resident

    Joined:
    Jul 24, 2009
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    South Yorkshire
    177
    87
    WHAT THE **** MISH?
     
  17. Yukai Traverse Town Homebody

    Joined:
    Apr 7, 2007
    Location:
    In the Internet
    14
    155
    HAH! YES! I WAS RIGHT! SCORE ONE FOR ME!
     
  18. Roxas OG

    Joined:
    Sep 26, 2006
    Gender:
    Male
    Location:
    Cin's basement
    188
    045

    It was eerily quiet as the crowd realized what they had witnessed. Perhaps this kind of depraved, voyeuristic rush was the same the Romans felt from the seats of the Colosseum 2,000 years ago. The smell of blood carried on the breeze that blew from the Pacific Ocean as it swept the sand and dust up from outside the stadium, rushing through the stands and out the other side. Spectators had arrived on boats that very morning, leaving west from Los Angeles’ shores and landing on the secret island a few hours later. It was a place used in film for years; in classics like King Kong and Peter Pan. Oscars had been won on this very land. That was, until nuclear testing by the United States army accidentally blew it away. Fifty-seven years later, overgrown and abandoned, it had been repurposed into the location for the game.
    Tickets for the Final Three had been sold for thousands each at floor price; seats near the pit cost millions. Celebrities, politicians, icons - there wasn’t a modern entity not present at the event. For a brief moment while they held their breaths as blood spurted from C’s neck, it seemed like humanity almost prevailed. That some shred of dignity had returned to the people as they watched his headless body and Risk’s mangled corpse loaded onto stretchers like dead cattle before they were walked down a tunnel. But when an announcer beamed through the microphone that Mish had won, the crowd erupted in a ritualistic fervor. She was guided to the bleachers where the remaining players waited as hoses sprayed the innards from the pit to prepare it for the next round. Lauriam watched Mish stumble back, a dead look in her eyes. She sat down next to her.
    “Mish… are you okay?”
    “Did I… make it?”
    “You made it,” Lauriam smiled, rubbing Mish’s back. She couldn’t imagine how relieved Mish must feel. How free. How lucky she was to go first and come out alive. So many things Lauriam wished she could feel, too. The game had gone on for so long, their struggle so infinite. It all ran together now - the blood, the gore, the dead bodies. The loneliness of the island and the stars in the sky. A blur of faces she’d never met but knew so well, falling left and right, and yet here she still was. That must mean something. But only if I survive.
    A million ideas ran through her head now that she’d seen what happened in the pit. Which weapon would she choose if she got called first? The sword seemed the most obviously powerful, but what about the staff? Was the shield underrated? Mish ended up with that one, and here she was. Defending wasn’t her style, but she couldn’t help but wonder… if the other weapons each had some kind of special ability, then what was the shields?
    Yet all these strategic musings were immediately dashed as the Organization members brought out the boxes for round two. Lauriam stared in confusion and horror as three square wooden boxes were placed at the edges of the pit. They’re all the same size, this time? What’s going on here?
    “Round two!” Roxas shouted, and the lotto appeared on the LED screens. Lauriam saw her ball bouncing around inside with the number one on it. She’d had so many advantages as the first player in earlier challenges, being the first out of the dormitory each time; the first to know what their weapon was and the first to explore the island. All those perks seemed useless now.
    “Player number one - Lauriam!”
    She stood and raised her arm to the screaming fans. They all had their posse in the crowd now, and she’d be foolish not to channel their energy during the fight. This was life and death, and any edge, even the slightest percentage, was worth it. An Organization member beckoned her to the edge of the pit and she slid down it coolly. It was time to choose a starting point. All the boxes seemed the same, but that didn’t mean they had the same weapons in them. Still, it was a crapshoot. She went to the nearest box and looked up at the LED screens.
    The balls began to bounce again and Roxas smacked the button. A light blue one rolled out.
    “Player number eighteen - Cin!”
    Lauriam watched Cin casually make his way into the pit as well. He was certainly a threat who’d need to be dealt with immediately. Everyone left in the game at this point would be putting up a fight. They were here for a reason.
    Cin chose a box and then the third player was chosen. They both looked up at the screen to see who would be joining them.
    “Player number seventeen - Cia!”
    Another section of the crowd went wild and Cia made her way to the final box. The three players glanced nervously at each other - the three of them didn’t know each other too well, and that meant anything goes. Lauriam dug her heel back, knowing full well what she needed to do. As soon as the game began, she would charge.
    “Players, I hope you’re ready to add one more to our Final Three. In this round, the fight will begin before you open your boxes. And that time… is now!”
    Lauriam tore open the top of her box and looked inside.
    This is… what the hell?
    The crowd gasped as she pulled out a nunchaku. Her eyes looked up to see astonished looks on Cin and Cia’s faces, too. Cin pulled out a blitzball while Cia had a wooden sword. Like the children on Destiny Islands, they were to have a deathmatch in the sand.
    “**** this!” Lauriam screamed, charging at Cin. He reared back and threw the blitzball at her as hard as he could. Lauriam ducked and the blue ball went flying over her head and out of the pit. She looked at Cin.
    “Well ****,” he said. Lauriam roared and jumped into the air, flinging her nunchaku at his face as hard as she could. The metal end flailed wildly but he dropped to his knees just in time and dodged out of the way. Lauriam pulled the end back to her and landed. Cin, laying on the ground, was momentarily defenseless. She raised her flail up and swiped at him, but he grabbed the wooden box his weapon came in and broke her nunchaku's path. The box splintered into pieces, and Cin drove one of them into the side of Lauriam’s leg.
    “****er!” she screamed, stamping on his hand. He cussed as her heel mangled his pinky finger. She kicked the bit of wood out of her ankle; it wasn’t a deep wound at all, but it still hurt. Something suddenly smacked her in the back of the head and she fell forward, vision white.
    Rolling, she blindly swiped her nunchaku out. She felt it hit something and as the spots cleared from her eyes realized it was the end of Cia’s wooden sword. It seemed insidiously sharp now that she saw the weapon up close. Cia swiped down but enough of reality had returned for Lauriam to dodge it. She kicked out and sent Cia sprawling. The wooden sword went flying through the air and landed in the sand on the edge of the pit. Lauriam heard her fans go crazy and dived for the weapon, but she was too late. Cin, who she’d totally forgotten about, was already there.
    She pivoted and turned to Cia, who was now unarmed. The poor girl turned to crawl away. Lauriam ran up behind her and slammed her foot down on Cia’s back. Her body crumpled into the sand and stopped crawling.
    “Please,” she heard Cia sob. “Don’t.”
    Cin stood, waiting to see what Lauriam did. She knew he’d let her have this one.
    “I have to,” Lauriam answered, and she wrapped the nunchaku around Cia’s neck. The crowd went silent as she was strangled by its chain. Everyone, even Cin, stood and watched until the deed was done. Finally, after an uncomfortable ninety seconds, Cia’s body stopped writhing.
    Brushing back her pink hair, Lauriam stood slowly. She turned to face her final foe; Cin.
    “Well?” he asked. “You ready?”

    6 players remaining
     
  19. Aelin Best Waifu

    Joined:
    Jun 30, 2011
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    British Columbia, Canada
    1,415
    Well that was messed up Mar. I thought you were better than that. Also, lol thinking surviving the round means anything. This game is too fucked up for it to actually matter
     
  20. rikusorakairiown Destiny Islands Resident

    Joined:
    Jul 24, 2009
    Gender:
    Female
    Location:
    South Yorkshire
    177
    87
    can't believe the "please to not kill me uwu" gambit didn't work in the final arc of a deathmatch