Gaiawood Studios

Lights…

The replica cityscape came to life as beams from above illuminated the miniature city blocks. Attention to detail reached borderline obsessive levels as the streets, vehicles, and even buildings bear spot-on resemblance to their real-life counterparts. How a B-rated Gaian director knew so much about a city that didn’t even exist on his planet was a mystery.

Camera…

Viewers at home were brought back from their commercial break to see a panoramic view of the city. Intern commentators described the situation to the anxious spectators, not only introducing the teams who were moments away from throwing down, but bombarding them with more trivial info and statistics than even a fantasy league player would ever need. Seriously, did everyone really need to know Bhudasan’s shoe size or the chemical formula of Aayon’s relaxer?

Action…

Not the one to wait for formalities, Officer Bhudasan made the first move. The 6 foot tall, 190lb officer from whatever Gaia’s equivalent of South-East Asia was had arrived.

-Thunk-

And he did so…

-THUNK-

In the most ludicrous way possible.

-KATHUNK!-

Hundreds of man hours went into creating Fake-Tokyo’s Midtown Tower (the tallest building in the city). It took Bhudasan no more than 10 seconds to bring it down… along with several other cardboard box buildings.

-KATHUUUUUUUNK!-

The officer plowed through 5 city blocks, leading his with riot shield (1.6x3ft in dimension). Those cardboard buildings didn’t stand a chance. He was dressed in his standard police uniform, albeit a bit bulky in places. His hands were covered with rather peculiar looking gloves and he had knee and elbow pads covering their respective joints. Handcuffs, a flashlight, and a tonfa hung from his belt.

"FREEEEEEEEEEZE!"

Bhudasan didn’t know who he was supposed to fight, nor was he even sure what the hell the other team was called. All he knew is that as soon as someone entered the area, that thing on his arm beeped. Bhudasan wasn’t a computer scientist, but he was pretty sure that this meant “Time to beat a**” in machine language.

So, whoever from Team Breaking Point entered the area first would be met with the following scenario: Broken cardboard buildings, an angry officer, and a Riot Shield with the words “JUSTICE” stenciled across it bearing in on them. Oh, and while his left hand held the shield, his right was off to the side, twirling something-

That something was a replica of a B-52 bomber. He was twirling it like a morning star by the wire, spewing sparks all over the place!

Heaven or HELL, let’s ROCK!

[1]

-Screeeeeeeeeeeech-

The pain-train came to an unscheduled stop. Expecting some overly-muscular time demon or cute school-girl assassin to be his first foe, Dimitrius was in no way prepared to face a raging actor. So, the officer just assumed this jerk was someone charging to stage. As mentioned before, he didn’t really know the specific rules concerning HoH or even spectator intervention. So hell, maybe it was normal for jerks to march on down while cursing up a storm.

“Hey, hey HEEEEEEY buddy, you trying to get yourself killed?” the officer shouted at the man as he came to a stop a couple feet from him. “You don’t jump into the sand-beast exhibit at the zoo as well, do you?” He lowered his shield, allowing the flattened cardboard buildings to fall off him. Also, he ceased twirling the bomber (but it was still shooting out sparks and making all kinds of noise for at least 5 more seconds). “Get the hell out of here before I write you a citation!”

[2]

About ten minutes before taking stage...

"No, this is bullshit. I am not wearing that goddamn thing and there is no way in hell you are going to make me."

Bhudasan Wrote:

"C'mon. The bitches love it!"

"****** the bitches, **** you, **** that parking ticket, and ****** this suit. I'm not wearing i-HEY. GET OF-STOPIT-AGAGHALGAYRGGGHIBIBBLE!"

Present time.

Ethan was standing just off stage, watching as his team captain bumrushed what appeared to be an actor. But, just as the man in army fatigues looked to be an actor, Ethan looked just like a man stuffed into a scaled down foam replica of his own mech. Everything was there, the paint scheme, the weaponry (non-functioning of course), the giant caricature of Ethan's face with him giving a thumbs up on the back. EVERYTHING.

"So much bullshit."

Ethan's voice was even muffled underneath the stupid helmet that he was forced to look out of. His eyes were hidden behind a thin veil that featured green eyes, but his field of view was definitely cut off by about ten degrees both superiorly and inferiorly. How was he supposed to fight in this s**t? Sure, it was surprisingly easy for him to navigate around now, but with everything being so muffled it was going to be hard for him to lay a proper beating down.

"Kick his a**!"

It was unclear whether Ethan was speaking to his team captain, or the man confronting him. Well, unclear to everyone that wasn't on his team, anyway.

Ory'hara gave the courtesy of allowing his opponent to recover after the surprise strike, discarding the ruined prop on the ground.

"Thanks".

As the officer prepared to retaliate, the assassin sunk into a slightly hunched over stance with both hands out before him. With a sudden burst of speed, he lurched forward, plowing through the Toyko streets below him to grab and crush the officer to him with a bearhug. The model plane struck him on the way down, causing him to wince, bruising his left shoulder in exchange for breaking off a wing, but what the assassin really steadied himself for was the impact of running into the officer's shield as he attempted to encircle and grab the man.

3

Clearly, Bhudasan was onto Ory'hara's plan to create a new landmark in downtown Tokyo, the imprint of the officer's face via suplex. A ground-fight in the presence of so much collapsible terrain wasn't exactly in the assassin's mind however, as he rolled off the riot shield, turning another section of suburb into flat land, fit for a future super-mall in its place.

As he scrambled up to his feet, looking at his opponent, it was hard to not notice the sparking and whistling thing in his hand, but another whizzing piece of scenary caught his attention first, and in his instinctive to twitch to sidestep and dodge the rogue aeroplane, it was enough for Bhudasan to succeed with his strike, making a glancing blow against Ory'hara's cheek. The hit scoured away make-up to reveal metal underneath, the assassin's Harlequin clown mask which covered one side of his face. Ory'hara could taste blood from a small split in his lip where his mask rattled a bit harshly against his mouth.

Unfettered by the strike and the loud distractions it provided, Ory'hara's right hand shot up in a bid to grab the offending arm by the wrist, while he shoved his right shoulder and side up against the officer and his shield to prevent him from mounting an effective counter.

4

"No no no no no NO! This is NOT fabulous, it's all wrong, wrong, wrong~!"

Watching from the safe zone established for spectators, a dwarf with white hair, whiter beard, outdated trucker cap, red flannel shirt, and a "Lan Sworded First" t-shirt was shouting through a megaphone labeled "Director." His cousin had convinced him that getting into this HoH racket would be a great way to make quick money, but considering how quickly his set had been destroyed and the lack of feature-film grade shots he had gotten, he wasn't so sure that it was a great idea.

He let out a heavy sigh, resigning himself to fate, as he sat down on an extremely short chair labeled "Director - Plotts."

[Director's Cut 1 of 17]

Every Batman has their Robin, and Grodzilla was no exception. In the unappreciated film Grodzilla vs. Megalon, Grodzilla was joined in his never ending vigil to save Japan by the righteous hero, Jet Jaguar. Jet Jaguar was a powerful ally without whose aid, Grodzilla would never have been able to defeat the combined might of Gigan and Megalon. Sadly, after this great evil was vanquished, the robot warrior flew off into the sun and was never heard of again – until now. Through the valiant efforts of the costume and make-up artists of The Revenge of Grodzilla, Jet Jaguar has made his way into replica Tokyo once more, after 38 years of hiatus.

Now while countless of fan boys were probably peeing their pants in excitement at the return of Jet Jaguar, the actor inside was sweating his a** off. Or rather he would have been if Benjamin hadn't paid him a twenty to switch places. Instead the blond, who was feeling right as rain due to his natural resistance to moderate levels of heat, was spending the energy that would otherwise have be used panting for breathe to hum the Jet Jaugar theme song as he sauntered into the studio.

"What the s**t is this?"

Ethan was just not getting into the spirit of things. First off, fighting over top of a cardboard replica city was not nearly as awesome as tearing through a real city while piloting a real mech. Second, all Ethan had seen so far was his team captain take off charging at the first poor b*****d to enter the room. Aside from that, Ethan hadn't seen hide nor hair of a single competitor, whether it was from his own team (a reprieve of which he was actually pretty damned grateful), or his opponent's.

Of course, there was some other poor b*****d stuffed into a foam suit. Whether or not he was actually happy with his current situation was apparently answered by the fact that he was humming along to some incredibly obscure tune.

"The hell are you doing?!"

Ethan practically shouted despite the fact that he was within ten feet of the man in the suit, perhaps overestimating the dampening effect of the foam mask secured to his head.

"Are they seriously just going to let anybody wander around here?"

It was beyond Ethan's comprehension that anyone would willingly want to wear one of these suits, and there was no way any other team out there was sadistic enough to shove somebody into something they not only didn't want to wear, but made them probably about 50% less effective in combat by doing so.

There he was.

Sitting amongst the audience, his arms wrapped around his back; his wrists cuffed together.

A pervert, in the dark; No suit. No scripts.

Just him-- and his boner.

Lurking, off cameras-- dimmed lights; looking for nearby preys to ravage.

With his manmeat.

Enough of this. Fox sat with a straight face. Awaiting his turn.

Planning, planning his next scheme. A plot.

Another mofo with a knife?

"Dammit" The Officer swore aloud as he saw Ory brandish his weapon. The last thing he needed was for someone else to stab the s**t out of him. With a quick hand-spring Bhudasan was back on his feet. His wire-trap and horrendous word-play had distracted the JDF trooper long enough for him to make his next move. It was time ‘The Enforcer’ made its début.

Fwip!

His right hand was a blur as Dimitrius reached for the buckle at his waist and in one smooth motion, pulled the belt free. The crowd very much anticipated the Officer’s pants falling down as well as everything that was, up until then, clipped to the belt. Much to their disappointment (and relief) this did not come to pass. His slacks actually FIT him for starters, and the items in his inventory were attached to the waistband of his slacks as opposed to being held on by the belt itself.

Instant replay later revealed that Dimitrius not only yanked the belt from his belt-loops with uncanny stripper-grace, but launched it towards his foe with neigh-perfect timing as Ory kicked away the riot shield. If successful, Ory first might notice that he’d have a difficult time pulling back his leg. Then if he looked down, he’d see that a piece of curiously elastic material had managed to wrap around his ankle.

Bhudasan didn’t allow much time to think about the situation as he’d give the other end of the belt a hard yank in attempt to pull Ory’s foot from under him. In conjunction with this, he’d rush forward. The officer had all the intention of using his right foot to plant a size 13 boot-print into the downed Ory’s face.

[7]

The assassin's first instinct upon seeing his ankle get snagged was simply to push off his back leg in a powerful leap toward the officer, transitioning the move seamlessly into a dropkick to the chest. He was going to close the distance and beat the s**t out of Bhudasan anyway, might as well do it now, on his terms. Cameras broadcasting the fight would display the move in slow-motion, complete with a squadron of miniature jet fighters coincidently zooming overhead and strafing first the assassin, then the officer with little blinking lights.

It was rather lucky that the buildings in mini-Tokyo were built out of cardboard and the like. Anything tougher and Ory'hara's landing would be needlessly more painful then it was. Still, the tremendous (atleast on a miniature scale) earthquakes from Ory'hara's landing (naturally) and Bhudasan's landing (hopefully) would set off seismographs, car alarms, and tank cannons all over Tokyo, culminating in the triggering of a grand finale set of pyrotechnics meant to simulate a nuclear attack on Grodzilla himself.

(Contestants are somewhere in there)

Unfortunately, the fireworks nowhere resembled that of an actual nuclear bomb but hey! This was a B-movie production, and they didn't have the budget to make it all fancy and CG. Maybe they will by HoH 2013, the Attack of MechaGrodzilla. In the meantime, in middle of the ring of fireworks, Ory'hara would rock himself back and then flip forth onto his feet, ready to continue the fight.

7

Saphen yelled at the orchestra as he walked on set, their director staring with confusion as he did. "You are dismissed sir," he said plainly and as soon as the man tried to object the bard tilted his head slightly. While the musician was neither tall in stature or large in bulk his presence had an odd sense of dread to it. The eyeless sockets of the mask penetrating into the man's soul as sweat began to bead down his face. Saphen didn't move for several minutes, letting the man's fear grow deep inside his heart before speaking.

"I do believe I said leave? Is that a problem?" the bard smiled beneath his mask as he watched the man twitch with turmoil before angrily exiting the set.

"Listen well my newly found members," he said loudly as he whipped his violin bow around in large sweeping motions.

"Desipite what you may believe this is not merely a battle but a performance!" Saphen smacked his bow against the metal plate on his violin before he could be interrupted by questions. "And every performance must the greatest we can offer. If it isn't we might as well be any other boring berserker." The bard looked over the orchestra, waiting to see if anyone was foolish enough to try and interrupt him again. When no one spoke up, he continued his long winded speech with great amounts of pleasure.

"We will do this with feeling, power, and we will not miss notes during my battle do you understand?" The orchestra gave a hesistant nod causing the bard to laugh deeply and sadistically.

"Very good, my battle hasn't started yet so just read over your music. Simply put don't be sluggish in the 24th measure and make sure there is a lot of feeling by the end."

The bard turned to wait for his turn to battle, thinking to himself.

Now this will be a battle to remember!

"Oh hell no" was the thought.

"Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, well, screw you, you're not going to get that far"

Ory'hara fought for balance as his foot was jerked forward, and he eventually stabilized himself when be brought the foot down further away, in a wider stance. Balance preserved, the triumphant assassin caught a glimpse of flaming movement out of the corner of his eye and looked up just in time to attempt to cross his arms and shield himself as he was engulfed in flame.

-CRASH- (I actually have no idea what burning cardboard would sound like hitting somebody).

As it the flaming tower shattered on the masked fighter like so much burning newspaper and cardboard, Ory'hara burst out of the inferno, seeking to grab onto the officer with one burning hand and stab the ever-living ******** out of anything that was within reach with the knife in the other, be it Bhudasan's hands, arms, chest, or face. The officer was going to find out first hand the prime similarity between Ory'hara and zombies.

Neither was something you wanted ontop of you while on fire. The flaming Tokyo Sky Tree's embers caught most of the assassin's arms on fire first, the flames were spreading up his arms and onto his body at a quick pace, but the mounting heat barely slowed down Ory'hara in anyway, shape or form. If anything, he acted like he revelled in it.

The officer would have plenty of time to figure out why while recovering in the hospital later on.

Quote: -Major Resistance: Fire. Ory'hara is a flame-orientated human being, he naturally has high resistance against extreme heat and flame. However, it has been demonstrated that he has been able to burn himself at an extremely high point of power. Other, magically influenced or supernatural forms of fire may be more adequate at burning and harming Ory'hara then normal flame and heat however

8

To his credit, the officer had the balls to go head-to-head with the flaming assassin an an effort to avoid getting turned into a carved roast, and for the most part, it worked. Bhudasan's quick reflexes and daring saved him from a gruesome series of injuries, but the persistant masked fighter was no slouch either, avoiding the brunt of the elbow by flinching away as he saw it coming in. It still rattled him, forming the beginnings of a small bruise on the side of his mouth and cheek, but he kept enough focus to lean back, bringing his armored, left hand to push against the incoming follow-up kick.

He was still sent staggering back from the force of the strike however, giving Bhudasan the time to go dive into the low-budget kiddy pool of Tokyo Bay. Ory'hara evidently thought that this short lull in battle was fine for him too. His left hand open and closed itself a few times as he shook away the sting from blunting the kick, and it was hard to tell what else was going through his mind as he walked toward the officer slowly, first sheathing his knife to withdraw in its stead from within his outfit, a 12-inch gunmetal rod.

Then with his other hand, he tore off the the flaming and rapidly deteriorating upper portion of his uniform, The straps that held his knife to his chest were still in place, made of something obviously more heat-resistant then the JSF outfit, and beneath the uniform revealed a simple black shirt, also made out of some sort of heat-resistant material. The most curious thing was how his entire right arm was bandaged in tight, white wrappings, from the end of his hand all the way up to the shoulder.

But Bhudasan wouldn't have too long to stare. As soon as he put out the flames on himself and looked up for his opposition, Ory'hara would throw the burning set of rags right at his face and light him on fire.

Again.

9

For all the trouble Bhudasan went through rolling around in the water, making himself soaking wet in the process, he found himself having to deal with a flaming ball of… something coming at him. As he stood, he witnessed the JDF trooper perform a little strip session of his own before attempting to light the officer ablaze once more.

Dimitrius wasn’t having that.

His first reaction was to swat the flaming crap away from him. His right glove is what made contact with the fire-rags as he smacked them aside like they owed him money. He was already soaking wet from his oceanic excursion, so the the rest of his clothing didn’t catch fire. His eyebrows did get singed from the close encounter, though. That sucked as he spent a great deal of time growing them and having someone draw them back on was expensive.

The officer’s gaze was focused on his opponent. Stabbing, fireballs, and now some sort of stick? Who knew what the hell Ory was planning to do next? If Bhudasan wanted to continue on through the tournament, he figured it best to keep an eye on his opponent at all times. Hell, his life depended on it… literally. Bitches were always trying to kill each other in HoH.

Speaking of bitches, that flaming rag he swatted away moments before would make its way towards a certain gorilla-suit clad teammate of his. He might have done this intentionally, but he’d deny it if asked.

[10]

In another life, Ory'hara might've just plain out laughed at what ensued, but the assassin was as impassive as he normally ever was, barring the Christian Bale outburst at the beginning of the match. He was a little red though, flushed either from the heat, or from the excitement of battle, it was impossible to tell.

Well, don't let anybody say he ever really showed mercy. That would bring down his assassin street cred.

Pressing a button on the handle of the baton instantly extended it into its true form, a nearly five foot long spear, tipped on both ends by a titanium spike. Next, he took a few steps, winding up, and then tossed the spear with venomous force into Bhudasan's mass, dead center.

The Composite Spear, as he called it, was grooved for improved aerodynamics in flight, and although he doubted he used enough force to puncture both of them if they were both in the path, if he got a twofer, he wouldn't mind.

Immediately in the aftermath of the spear throw, the Ory'hara took a quick martial stance, knees bent, legs spread, and arms at his side as if he was powering up.

10

"Screw this."

Ethan was fed up with just watching people fight. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, since he wasn't the round's designated striker and even if he was, the hell was a striker anyway? Not to mention that he had no idea where the other team was. As far as he knew the only people dressed up in costume were on his team. There was Bhudasan who was unsurprisingly out of costume, Fox, who was wearing like fifteen masks, and Aayon, who he was pretty sure looked better in a gorilla costume than outside of it. And then that one guy, dressed up like some goddamn robot.

Wait, who the hell was that guy?

Ethan was practically back in the dressing room by the time he had this realization, and for some reason it really upset Ethan that he had an opportunity to start a fight and, for whatever reason, found himself unable to take it. It was time to rectify that mistake, but first thing was first, he had to get the jackass to notice him. With that thought in mind, Ethan disappeared into the dressing room.

Not more than five minutes later Ethan was back, except this time there was a oversized (clearly fake) jetpack strapped to the back of his mech suit. Not that anyone would really notice at first.

Because you see, Ethan had rigged himself to some wiring up above, and was quite literally "flying" over the already mostly-demolished city of Tokyo. It was more like a zipline, really, and as Ethan's pace quickened his jetpack ignited, sending smoke trailing behind him as he soared rather awkwardly (and not all that quickly) across the skyline. In spite of the fact that his approach was probably EXTREMELY telegraphed, Ethan still hoped he had the element of surprise. After all, the sight of a grown a** man (semi)willingly dressed in a foam replica of his famous mech wearing a jetpack and swinging from suspicious wiring certainly had a sort of awe factor that could certainly cause one to stop and think about their lot in life for at least a few seconds.

"********!"

Ethan screamed a fraction of a second before impact, and since his intended motion was thrown off by the horrible quality of the zipline, the best Ethan could hope for with his opening attack was raising his knees at the last minute to slam them into the foam-padded chest of one Benjamin Nicolai. Or at least the guy in the suit who he thought was Benjamin Nicolai.

If the knees hit, Ethan would unhook himself from the zipline upon impact, counting on the momentum and force of impact to knock Benjamin over, and with nothing to hold Ethan up, well, he'd fall right with the guy, driving his knees even harder into the man's chest.

If Ethan missed, well, he'd hopefully swing on past without getting his s**t wrecked.

Whatever happened, the fake jetpack just kept shooting smoke out at an alarming rate.

[1/17]

Through all of this Jet Jaguar was off in his own world a** the actor behind all that foam was, for some unknown reason, waaaaay too happy with his current role and was appealing to the camera instead of all the fighters around him. Ignorant of any questions that may have been thrown his way, the man was moving to and fro along to some poorly choreographed form of dancing as he bellowed out the words to Jet Jaguar's popular theme song.

"Godzilla and Jet Juagar Punch Punch Punch!"

By this time his would-be opponent was back from his bathroom break and having rigged himself into wiring above, was beginning his virgin launch into the skies of downtown Tokyo. A fact which Benjamin was completely oblivious to, as he continued his show and dance routine, the next part which involved him turning his back on the audience for a brief moment as miming punches along with the next line of lyrics.

"Punch Punch PAUN--"

He was cut off by of the sudden appearance of an airborne mech headed his way, his last syllable and any remnants of a tune he had were caught in his throat. It was quite a sight to behold, a grand entrance he both envied and admired, but he could do naught in response but...

But opening one's antennas was not an adequate good response to such a dynamic entry, a fact which he was made painfully aware as the wind was knocked from him and his body sent hurtling earthward. Ben and the man now crushing his chest would soon find themselves sliding a short distance across the backstage area until they short lid was ended by a collision with the snack table and their forms covered with all manner of food stuffs that rained from above.

All of which left Jet Jaguar winded, soiled and with very little to defend himself from the onslaught that was sure to come but two hastily raised hands hovering in front of his face.

[1]

"Tch!"

Fox was getting bored. Though he hated his team, he felt the urge to help. Fox needed to fight someone, he had to. That's the least he could do.

"Move... b***h!"

Fox swatted aside some random broad that was talking to him. It was time to work.

It was either an opponent... or the buildings! --And the helpless miniature dummies!

"Hahahaa!!"

Fox would erupt in a maniacal laughter, as he began suplexing tall buildings, karate chopping trees and soccer kickin' houses.

[0.1/17]

That pose as if he was powering up?

Thats because he was.

In the same amount of time that it normally took a man to blink, something changed about Ory'hara. A subtle shift in the atmosphere, or the bulging of his muscles. If his opponents were capable of sensing the aura of others, the assassin's suddenly intensified.

"Kuh!"

Then he moved.

With all of his considerable physical prowess amplified nearly two-fold, for atleast a few seconds, Ory'hara hauled a** toward Bhudasan, intent on reaching him before he could pull the spear out and use it against its owner.

Ory'hara hopped a short distance the rest of the way, bringing to bear all of his amplified power downward into a single overpowering variant of an axe-kick downward onto Bhudasan's shoulder, intent on crushing bone, and putting the officer one step closer to being set up for an early decommission and retirement.

If it missed, well, his steel-toed footwear would impact Tokyo Bay like the meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs.

Good vibrations dude.

Quote: Rush: By drawing and concentrating spiritual power within himself, Ory'hara is capable of raising his already formidable physical attributes to new heights for a few seconds, making possible and easy feats that may have been difficult for him before. This is often accompanied by a surge of power that most spiritually attuned foes can sense, and fatigues Ory'hara quicker. Increasing the power of Rush (and increasing the bonus) adds a powerful flash fire effect emanating from his body, a short-ranged wave of searing heat and crimson flame, and repeated use will start to cramp, ache, and pain his muscles. Overuse will result in extreme physical overload breakdown to the point where he will no longer be able to fight, due to drastic damage to his own body.

11

C. Fox Wrote:

Now the director and THE MAN had the liberty to turn Fox into any character.

[0.2/17]

Everything was going according to plan. Ethan's surprise attack had worked like a charm and now he was in a great position to lay an early beatdown on his opponent. As soon as they crashed into the ground Ethan spread his knees a little bit, basically achieving a mount as best he could against his fellow costumed opponent. Behind his mask Ethan was wearing a maniacal grin, but it faded quickly as soon as he caught the sight of something...invigorating out of the corner of his eye.

ragingtofu Wrote:

For some reason, two lesbians saw UBB's giant robot and decided to start making out.

His facial expression changed from a grin to a look of pure anger in a split second. Instead of beginning to immediately rain down punches, Ethan couldn't help himself. He had to release this sudden, overwhelming and inexplicable rage the best way he knew how.

"SHYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Oh s**t son Wrote:

Team Tech

Happy Birthday

Any time Ethan witnesses two (mildly attractive) women kissing he suddenly feels invigorated. All of his cooldown timers are instantly reset and he may use any one of his techniques at double effectiveness. He is also immune to all fatigue for the next two posts, receiving a spiritual adrenaline rush as a result of the girl on girl action.

Oh it was on now. Ethan could feel guilt-free energy pumping through his veins, strengthening his connection with the spiritual realm that he drew his powers from. He balled his right hand into a tightly closed fist even as his left hand came down first (at a surprisingly straight angle, as if he was having difficulty bending that particular arm) to try and break through his opponent's guard. Whether or not that punch landed, his right hand ignited with a bright red glow that was in stark contrast to the normal blue hue it took when Ethan employed his Detonate ability.

"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

For whatever the reason, Ethan was unable to actually form a coherent phrase. It was all just loud, ear-destroying shouts that, when coupled with the muffling effect of his mask, probably sounded downright terrifying.

And his right hand came down hard, aiming to smash straight into his opponent's nose with all the force the 195 lb man could muster and then some. To be specific, the moment Ethan's fist made contact with anything, whether it was Jet Jaguar's arm or his nose, the force of impact would be quadrupled as the contact caused the spiritual force built up in Ethan's hand to Detonate against his opponent's flesh.

Once the punch discharged, Ethan seemed to be able to reign his anger in. Problem was, he didn't seem to be breathing hard even after all of that screaming.

[2/17]

Detonate: Used once

It was rather fortunate for Ory'hara, contrary to popular belief, that was no stranger to Heaven or Hell and its rules.

Which meant that he knew that the ******** that just materialised out of nowhere before him was anything from, not real, to being an illusion. He distinctly heard in the back of his head the Director's sudden increase in screaming and pitch off to the sidelines, but he assumed it was part of the stage's special effects and he was pissed at its misuse. This was not supposed to be in the script.

Not yet anyway.

He ducked anyway, not quite avoiding the beam of light, but out of habit then anything else. The assassin had fire in his blood and adrenaline rushed through his system, and he figured that if he didn't overextend himself by triggering the increase in power repeatedly, he would keep the upper hand in a prolonged battle. It would take more then mere flash to slow his stride now. The assassin lunged in even as the beam tracked him. The masked man was a warrior who played quite literally with fire at times, and such a being's connection to the fiery element meant that he was actually, pretty well-accustomed to brilliant light. But even the smallest of things could never be overlooked in a battle.

Ory'hara saw the dull, dark flash of his own spear being readied, and he instinctively turned his body sideways to minimize his profile, and swiped his arm before him to smack away the spear. The intense light however, caused him to misjudge where it was aimmed, forcing him to take a painful gouge on the outside of his right leg, the spear tip ripping into the side of his pants and shearing through the material and much of the skin underneath.

He held his breathe, the hiss of pain and swallowed it up inside him, converting the hurt into the will to move after Bhudasan and beat the crap out of him with his fists. Favoring his left leg in the lead now, Ory'hara held his right hand loose near his chest and his left before him, leading the way and shielding the worst of the light. When he was within range, he lashed out with an armored left backhand at where he could make out the officer's face to be.

12

Ethan was still riding high off of the adrenaline rush that accompanied him seeing two members of the female gender macking like it was no tomorrow, so if there was anything messed up with his hands, he sure didn't show it right away. Though there was no doubt that once the rush wore off Ethan would find the knuckles of his right and left hands bruised, the fact that it was the discharge of spiritual energy being the major reason for the increased force of impact and not Ethan's own strength actually saved the dark-haired mech pilot's right hand from being shattered on impact.

Ethan wasn't much of a ground and pound specialist, but he did know that it would be foolish to give up whatever advantage he had. With that in mind, Ethan adjusted his center of gravity so that he'd be harder to remove from his seat, and then just started raining punches down upon Benjamin's guard. At this point they weren't full force haymakers, simply because Ethan had enough of his wits back that he recognized throwing punches as hard as he could would result in him tiring out before the fight even reached its halfway point. Relaxing his punches would both allow him to preserve the bones in his hand as well as keep him functioning at a high pace for a little while longer.

A short time after the first punch, Ethan was able to see something strange through the mesh that covered his eyes. Even while guarding, his opponent was...snapping?

The hell?

That didn't stop him from throwing another right hand, but Ethan couldn't help but figure that things were going to get real bad real soon.

[3/17]

Detonate: Used once

Again the distance was closed, and again Bhudasan found himself in an interesting predicament. Instead of running for his life or staring like a deer caught in the headlight, Ory decided to RUN AT HIM. Odd choice of tactics, but an effective one as it hindered the effectiveness of the officer’s spear toss. Still, he was at the advantage with the beam from his illusion obscuring the trooper’s view. So, while he did get close enough to deflect the spear, the man was more or less taking a guesstimate with his backhand.

As for Dimitrius, he’d take a huge step back, causing the strike to whiff.

The moment he did this however; the Cannon and its beam faded from existence. His illusions had served their purpose and there was no use wasting effort on them.

Retaliation came in the form of the cop rotating his body clockwise to deliver a powerful spinning back-kick into Ory’s ribs courtesy of his right-foot.

The officer and the JDF troop met Stab for stab and blow for blow. By the time this thing was over, both fighters would be in as bad a shape as cardboard Tokyo.

[13]

s**t, the hell's he doing with that damn hand of his?

Ethan's only previous Heaven or Hell experience had biased him in a way. Having fought Rage in a burning building not more than a week ago, he couldn't help but feel that his opponent snapping his fingers would result in some part of his body being set on fire. So, imagine the relief that Ethan experienced when he was temporarily blinded by a flash of light only to find that his eyes had not spontaneously combusted, but instead his opponent had conjured up a shield out of thin air.

Oh thank Go-

TONG!

The shock of the shield being planted into his face did way more to dislodge Ethan from his position than the actual impact itself. His last minute dodge to get out of the way actually occurred after he was being hit, so not only did Ethan wind up with a bloodied nose, but he looked like a total jackass as he attempted to stand up from his mount after getting hit in the face, which resulted in him tumbling over backwards and landing flat on his back about three or four feet away from his opponent. Inexplicably, after Ethan finished his roll, the cardboard nuclear power plant about five feet behind him exploded, setting the nearby "buildings" aflame as the special effects crew got to work.

"Hn..."

Ethan shook his head, clearing the cobwebs and splaying the inside of his mask with a surprisingly large amount of blood. Assuming Ethan had time, he'd roll backwards in order to make it to his feet and take a good long look at his opponent across the way. With the roll, there was about seven or eight feet between the two.

Behind the mask, Ethan's face took on a never-before-seen look of absolute focus and concentration. He set his feet squarely on the ground, turned himself at the hips so that his right shoulder was closer to Benjamin than his left, and cupped his hands around a small pocket of air. From there, Ethan began pumping spiritual energy into the space between his hands. For the first few seconds, nothing significant was happening. After about five seconds, blue streams of energy started crackling between his foam-covered palms before coalescing into a tiny little blue ball about the size of a grape. The ball was growing exponentially, however, with every passing second.

[4/17]

Detonate: Used once.

Ory'hara was pretty lucky indeed that not only were his hands armored, his right hand in particular (and the rest of the arm too, for that matter), was tougher then usual.

Still... that ******** -hurt-.

The assassin backed away, growling in pain and cradling his bruised right hand. His fists had always been his most favored weapon, and he was pretty hard sonofabitch to begin with. Sloshing through the remains of Tokyo Bay, Ory'hara was about to say and right back into it because this was too good a chance to miss and begin beating the vulnerable officer with any part of his body that didn't hurt when... wait... who the hell was that?

Oh, hey, it was the movie director. Why was he stepping between him and his opponent?

"あなたたちろくでなしは私の素晴らしい東京セットを台無しにしました！ そしてあなたはまず台本〔文字〕に従いません！ 私の映画を台無しにしている愚かな天国あるいは地獄戦士〔戦闘機〕． 私は休憩時間を要求しています。 専門家がここであなたの猿に尻〔ばか者〕を持って来て、このひどいセットを直します。 5分でレジュメ〔履歴書〕を撮影します。 反対尻の穴〔ばか野郎〕はありません。"

Oh wait, you don't understand that? Don't worry, for the viewers at home, there were subtitles at the bottom of the screen.

"You bastards ruined my beautiful Tokyo set! And you don't follow the script to begin with! STUPID HEAVEN OR HELL FIGHTERS RUINING MY MOVIE. I'M CALLING FOR AN INTERMISSION. TECHNICIANS GET YOUR MONKEY ASSES HERE AND FIX UP THIS GODDAMN SET. FILMING RESUMES IN FIVE MINUTES. NO OBJECTIONS ASSHOLES."

And before Ory'hara could object, or punt the squinty-eyed and puffed up director out of the way (because he could understand what the man was saying), a crowd of technicians and stage-hands (more worried about losing their jobs then about anything else) swarmed onto the devastated city of mini-Tokyo to bear the two men off it while they attempted to repair it.

Goddamn movie industry theatrics.

Quote: Right Arm of the Slayer: This is not so much equipment as it is part of him. Ory'hara's right arm was badly injured in a battle with a dragon, defending a sacred Temple of Falis in Barton. Mutilated almost beyond recognition, and studded with pieces of the ancient gauntlet he once wore over that arm, it is a testament to the healing powers of the priests and priestesses of Falis, and a white mage named Seyumi Kaikou to have salvaged the arm so. Ory'hara retains the same basic functionality with the arm that he had before it got injured, however, the inner flow of ki through the arm has been permanently disrupted, with massive consequences to his life and battle style. The Right Arm of the Slayer, as the assassin calls it, is physically tougher then his left arm, and is less susceptible to pain, and is also slightly stronger. A normal distinguishing feature are the white, purified bandages that Ory'hara has wound tightly around the arm to help control and keep the unstable ki in that part of his body in check, as well as stave off the frequent pain there.

14

-INTERMISSION-

"…"

Dimitrius didn’t know who the hell this guy was, but he wasn’t about to argue with him. The hero-cop was in less than optimal shape at the moment so a quick breather was all the more welcome. Back home, the views were not too pleased. The brawl was starting to get good and now they were forced into commercials. On top of that, they were pretty bad.

Bhudasan sat in a folding chair wrapping up his shoulder and foot with torn shreds of his shirt. This was quite the challenge with only one arm, but he managed. During all of this, one of the assistants attempted to go over his lines and the script. It all semed to go in one ear and out the other. That is, until the guy mentioned “EPIC AERIAL ASSAULT”. There was to be a scene where the two behemoths engaged in an epic stare down as the sun set into Tokyo bay. Suddenly, a massive wave of aircraft swoops in like a scene out of ID-4 to take down the behemoths.

Recalling the events from earlier in the battle, he knew the mini planes had some small amount of propulsion behind them. One wasn’t enough to propel him, but maybe if he had more...

"Hey buddy, in case you didn’t notice, I’m a little movement impaired, here. Mind if you guys fetch me a wheelchair or something? I mean, if you want a movie like this to appeal to the emotions of the audience, it’d be awesome to film one of the monsters in a wheelchair! You can even spice it up, put some death lasers on it or something!"

When he brought his idea to the director, the man seemed skeptical at first. He’d require a little more persuasion.

"This is guaranteed Oscar material! When was the last time you’ve seen a giant monster in a wheel chair? That’s right, NEVER! It’ll be ground breaking, you’ll be HUGE!"

Prospects of winning major rewards seemed to do the trick, and the wheelchair was acquired.

"Excellent buddy, you won’t regret this!"

The SFX crew went to work, ‘arming’ the thing with all sorts of futuristic weaponry. In the meantime, Dimitrius eyed the increased number of RC aircraft being gathered for the scene. They were even bringing in extras from backstage!

Perfect.

[15]

Three to four feet didn't give Ethan as much time as he would have liked. He was barely able to get up to his feet and assume the needed stance before he locked onto his target and realized that he was a hell of a lot closer than comfort would allow. Ethan wasn't exactly able to rush the process of concentrating energy, nor was he able to even think about how much s**t he had gotten himself into. Executing his plan required a disturbing amount of zen-like focus, something that Ethan wasn't necessarily known for.

So one could imagine how much concentration it took for him to consider that a random joker appearing out of some sort of rip in space/time was not considered worthy of even a fraction of his attention. The only thing he could do was watch as his opponent drew closer and closer, ready to interrupt the attack before Ethan could even manage to fire it.

It was here that Ethan was slightly relieved by the stranger's arrival. Something seemed to be slowing his opponent up in his charge, biding Ethan just enough time to finish his preparations. Whatever the cause, Ethan was thankful for the reprieve as his hands suddenly parted, accommodating the sudden increase in size of the now soccer ball-sized bundle of energy they were containing. Once the charge was complete, Ethan was able to devote some attention to the cause of Benjamin's hesitance in charging. At that point, he couldn't help but catch the tail end of the red ranger's sword slash. Eyes narrowed behind his mask as he recognized that the stranger was using a rather fake-looking sword as the medium for...

Oh goddammit

Ethan's arms seemed to move in slow motion as he "dragged" the ball of energy to his front, not necessarily moving slowly because of a perceived weight but instead because preventing that ball from exploding in his hands was a very physically and spiritually taxing process.

Ethan was just barely able to get both of his hands in front of him, providing a spiritual nudge to the ball of energy to free it from his grasp. The split second after Ethan released his hadouken, the red ranger's attack washed over him, completely bathing him in flames even as the sudden blast of concussive force provided by the hadouken's detonation attempted to blow the majority of the flames around him instead of on him.

Ethan was able to hold his ground, even as his foam mask and arm guards from the elbow down were either incinerated or blown to bits. His hands were clearly singed from the attack, and bruises were already beginning to form along the knuckles from his punches thrown into solid steel earlier. The foam spikes jutting out from both his left and right shoulder were definitely still on fire, and the rest of his costume was singed a nice shade of brown. There was something important to note, however, in that his left arm appeared to have something metal duct taped to it just below the elbow. Of course, since the foam costume was no longer covering up the device, it was pretty easy for someone to look down and notice that there was a sixteen ounce claw hammer strapped there.

Once the flames washed away, Ethan hunched over to try and catch his breath, feeling a sudden rush of fatigue wash over him.

"Heh...cute trick. Guess I'll have to try it ********!"

There was no way in hell he was going to be able to stop Benjamin's shield charge, which was, quite frankly, perfectly timed to avoid both the flaming dragon and Ethan's hadouken. Ethan was able to straighten up at the last moment to avoid taking the buckler straight to the face, but getting caught in the chest by the strangely glowing piece of metal caused him to take a single step backwards as his bid at getting a deep breath was foiled.

That didn't stop Ethan from reaching over with his right hand to tear the still-smoking piece of tape away from his arm once his feet were set, freeing the rather plain-looking piece of equipment to fall straight down where it was snagged by his left hand.

"Alright pal. Let's do this."

In spite of the fact his face was beat red, his hair was all sorts of messed up, and his hands were starting to throb like a sonofabitch, Ethan managed to flash a wide s**t-eating grin at his still fully-costumed opponent.

[5/17]

Detonate: Used once

Hadouken Cooldown initiated

Ability gained! - Vorpal Red Dragon Slash

Benjamin came lunging through whatever was left of the explosive collision between Vorpal Slash flames and Hadouken, planted his right foot down and transferred all of his momentum into overhand haymaker to his opponent's torso. All of which was to be expected from his earlier actions*, but what would be quite unexpected was what followed immediately afterward.

VWOOOMP!!!

For upon contact with the buckler a mini-explosion would be set-off right up in Ethan's grill, as the blue glow that was covering the buckler suddenly expanded into a sphere of force and electricity that was quite similar to the "detonate" the mech pilot had used earlier. The man would feel as if he'd been hit by two shield bashes instead of one, the second accompanied not only by an increased power but an electric charge that would do quite a number of his nervous system unless he had some protect against it. If the electricity was allowed the play about unchecked he wouldn't be paralyzed for long, but rather would feel like a deer in headlight for a moment as he crumbled to the ground with no way to soften his landed. And upon that moment's passing, his muscles would a burning sensation that usually accompanied hours of labor or minutes straining to lift a weight beyond his abilities.

Benjamin would be feeling something too, the recoil that came with such a technique, that would send the left side of his body hurtling backwards as he pivoted on his now forward right leg. But it was relatively safe to say he'd be the one recovering first, allowing him to keep the pressure up for a bit longer. So as Ethan was picking himself off the ground a few paces away, he'd see his foe charging his way once more. And my oh my, it seemed he was also snapping away once more but with his right hand this time.

[ |

[ 5 ]

((*To clarify this attack was prepped in my last post, talking about in Dessie's post and talked about here again. It's all the same attack, just in the three states of being: before, during and after))

So all of that stuff about Ethan weathering the blow by taking a single step backwards and drawing a hammer was really just something he had imagined was going to happen, because even though the shield was glowing with blue sparks flying off of it, Ethan clearly didn't see this coming. Like before, he managed to stand up fully, meaning that instead of his face being put in the path of the buckler it was his chest, but the doubled force of the shield bash was unexpected and the electrical discharge was, well...unpleasant.

The foam padding of his costume served to absorb some of the shock, at the very least preventing his heart from experiencing arrhythmia and sparing Ethan from some of the associated burning and muscle spasms that accompanied the electrical shock.

However, since Ethan was totally off balance and the impact was quite literally twice as strong as he could have predicted it being, Ethan was flung head over heels, getting himself tangled up in some twine as he crashed through a large grouping of cardboard Tokyo's power lines. Ethan landed on his back and slid another two feet, with sparks (in the form of cheap pyrotechnics) shooting up into the air with every crushed building he left in his wake.

Since Ethan hadn't gotten the chance to free his hammer just yet, he took his brief moment of respite to do just that. Ethan first managed to climb up to his hands and knees, making sure that his head was towards his opponent so he could keep an eye on the guy, before he tore away the duct tape securing the improvised weapon to his left arm. The hammer clattered to the ground just as Ethan realized his opponent was charging forward to keep the pressure up.

"Shi-"

Ethan scrambled, his right hand snagging up the hammer just as Benjamin was no more than ten feet away from him. Ethan didn't get to his feet in order to meet his foe, but instead opted to utilize his legs and his current position to maybe sneak in underneath that buckler. Using those legs, Ethan waited for one more of Benjamin's strides before he shot himself forward and to his left, aiming to smash the head of that hammer against Nicolai's shin in an attempt to cut one of his legs out from underneath him. Obviously traveling at that rate of speed, Jet Jaguar would be doing a pretty awesome faceplant into the Yomiuri Giants baseball stadium.

And hey, if he missed, it put Ethan at an advantage as he'd have more than enough time to roll around onto his back and kip up to his feet in the time it would take Benjamin to stop his momentum.

[6/17]

Detonate: Used once

Hadouken: Cooldown nearing completion

The scene was set and the director was busy yelling at everyone to get into position.

"SUPA DRAMATIC DESTINY BATTOU FOR TOKYO: FINAL ROUNDU! ACTION!"

Viewers at home were brought back to a newly restored cityscape. At least, it was restored around Tokyo Bay. The rest of the city still looked like crap, but everything they needed for the final scene was in place. The lighting was set to simulate dawn, casting hues of yellows, browns, and oranges. To add a little ambiance, someone was jamming relaxing koto music in the background. It was the calm before the storm.

At one end was Ory dressed a snazzy new outfit with a sword duct-taped to his hand. The audience had no clue what transpired during the commercial break, but there was one thing they could universally agree on:

When people started duct taping weapons to themselves, they meant business.

Strangely enough, Dimitrius was nowhere to be seen in the immediate shot. He had said he was going to another section of the arena to check up on his chair and make sure the fighter-bomber swarms were ready to go. When the director asked why he was so interested in the planes, Bhudasan told him that this was his big screen debut and he wanted everything about his grand finale to be perfect.

In a way, the officer had been telling the truth.

Tension built as crucial seconds passed. The crowd was growing anxious, as was the director. It was almost time to trigger the climactic aerial assault and one of the main stars wasn’t even there! Come to think of it, the planes weren’t there either…

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW!"

A loud, piercing wail echoed through the studio as Officer Bhudasan made his grand appearance. Much to the surprise of the viewers, directors, and assistants, it was even more ridiculous than the one before.

The cop was sitting in a wheelchair, decked out with all sorts of futuristic weaponry and flashing lights. There were cannons where the arm rests should be, rocket engines on the handle bars, and spikes jutting from the sides of the wheels. Held across his body in his right hand was the riot shield he had lost early on in the fight. The word "JUSTICE" had been scratched out and replaced with some Kanji symbols that roughly translated to "APE KNEES". Bhudasan didn’t know what they really meant and only picked them because he thought they looked cool. The assistants knew, but they sure as hell weren’t going to stop the officer from making an a** of himself.

As ludicrous as this all appeared, it wasn’t the worst of it. No. What really caught the crowd’s attention was that no less than 3 dozen rocket-propelled jet-craft had been wrangled up and tied to his wheelchair like mini-airborne sled dogs. One couldn’t pull him, two couldn’t pull him, but 36+? Hell yes! Still, the thrust wasn’t so crazy as to lift the chair off the ground or move him forward at anything greater than run-speed. Regardless, it was truly a sight to behold.

And man, was the director pissed!

Again Dimitrius plowed through newly reconstructed buildings with no regard for the lives of the Japanese figurines. Right now his concern was Ory, that sword he was wielding, and the shield bashing he planned to do when the rocket-chair crashed into him.

[16]

Following the aforementioned kip up, Ethan would size up his opponent who now had conjured a sword out of thin air. Ethan would have to figure out the mechanics behind all of that later, but right now he had a heavily armed opponent to deal with and all Ethan had to put him on even ground was the hammer he was holding in his right hand and the vast wellspring of spiritual energy that he was still currently separated from. The poor guy felt somewhat exhausted at this point, as though he had just come in from a long distance run. But none of that mattered, there was still plenty of air to breathe and none of his ribs were shattered yet, so he didn't have any excuse to be a p***y.

Ethan took a couple of steps forward, shaking his left arm out so that the power lines hanging from it would fall to the ground, and then reached behind him, unhooking the still-smoldering jetpack from what remained of his costume. Strangely enough, when the supposedly fake jetpack hit the ground it spontaneously ignited, blasting off into the air before exploding with all the splendor of a fourth of July firework.

Coincidentally, Ethan just so happened to start his charge just as that jetpack exploded in the air. He came in with his right hand being held low, the top of the hammer knocking out chunks of buildings as he sprinted past. As he ran, Ethan kept his left raised at chest level, just in case he needed to make a last minute grab at a sharp object in order to save his stupid life.

For a second there, Ethan considered that he'd just get up in Benjamin's grill and try to match his sword and board with a hammer, but about halfway into his charge Ethan realized just how stupid of an idea that was. In response to that realization, Ethan brought his right arm up, and just tomahawked the hammer at Benjamin's chest in an attempt to at least occupy the shield arm, if not draw the entirety of Benjamin's attention.

By the time the hammer arrived Ethan would be within two strides of reaching his target, and both of his bruised, bloodied, and burned fists were ready and rarin' to go.

[7/17]

Detonate: Used once

Hadouken: Cooldown expired

“What!?”

Ory moved out of the way. Ain’t that a b***h? True, Dimitrius couldn’t turn around in any reasonable amount of time to set up a counter attack, so what else was the Officer to do? Nothing, but ride off into the sunset.

No, really. He rode into the sunset! It was a huge canvas with a scene of a dramatically over-sized sun setting in the hills of Japan painted onto it. The mini jets crashed into the canvas first, and then initiated some sort of crazy death-spiral as they all collided in an amalgam of sparks, plastic, and wires. The wheel chair was next, ripping through what remained before toppling over and sending the officer face planting to the ground.

Wreckage from the canvas, jets, and his own wheelchair rained over him.

“….”

Beep beep! Beep beep!

And there was that damned noise coming from his FIGHTER again signaling to him that time was up.

Cut and print! It was bizarre end to a bizarre battle.

[17]

STRIKER

What? What the Hell was this? A striker at the end of the fight?

Aayon ran back in from off stage, a bouquet in hand. Fierach was gonna get it now!

As the dark skinned woman in the burnt off gorilla suit, ran towards the asian, she brought the flowers over her head and threw them down at Bhudasan's opponent.

Then she continued off the scene again.

Fierach Wrote:

"RED POWER SWORD ACTIVATE"

Channeling his power into the mighty power sword, emblem of a Ranger team leader, the weapon quickly burst into flame as he swung it around, fire trailing the blade beautifully as he built up the charge.

"VORPAL"

"RED"

"DRAGON"

"SLASH"

On the last word, the Red Ranger swung his sword at Ethan, despite the fact that the sword itself would clearly miss. The special effects however, jumped off the blade, arcing up over into the air and down toward Ethan, taking the shape of a dragon's head. in a long-distance torrent of fire.

If Ethan stood there, however, he'd be hit like a truck, and he'd find out that those weren't no special effects.

RED SUPER SENTAI DEFEND JET JAGUAR AND TOKYO AGAINST GRODZILLA'S FRIENDS.

In a similar blast of fire (similar because it was fire, not because it was shaped like a dragon) that came screeching across the set a slightly-singed Delorian with some unrecognizable but god-ugly contraption jury-rigged into the back seat appeared out of nowhere at 88 miles per hour.

"Quick, Marty! We've got to correct the timeline!"

A kid wearing a life preserver jumped up from the audience and ran down to the car, jumping in beside a crazy-haired old man in a black metal mask.

Flipping down a set of fully-wrapping reflective shades over his mask, the driver revved the engine and sped off again - leaving flaming tire-tracks behind along with a clap of thunder and a few last words...

"Let's roll."

Flapping in the wind in the wake of that temporal rift a slip of Red paper wafted almost impossibly in place along with a note written in similarly flaming letters on the ground between the tire tracks:

People are not always the same in every timeline.

Use of abilities not approved for HoH in this timeline:

Red Card - Ory'hara