Crimson Hawk Hotel [Page 9]

“Continue Fourty-Thousand feet down to Main Street and Heaven Or Hell Avenue. Your destination will be on the left.”

The soothing voice of the navigation system sang to him through his helm's audio system. A most welcome of upgrades. As he enjoyed his commute at terminal velocity, data pertaining to the Crimson Hawk's current occupants flashed before his eyes at speeds only he could read. Some names he had never heard of, others he could recall with varying degrees of familiarity.

“Expand search to the surrounding block.”

A new group of names with attached faces appeared. Vahn, Sierra, Garah, he was already aware of the events unfolding between those three. It was the entire reason for his “visit”. As he sifted through more of the incoming names, one in particular seemed to aggravate him.

“Silver Alexander...”

His eyes narrowed.

“You have arrived at your destination.”

Now, The Commander could have chosen to ride-share his a** up to the hotel, walk, or show up in a drop-pod all orbital commando style. Could have, but did not. He was THE Commander! As such, he had a reputation to uphold; A brand to protect!

If anyone near the entrance of the Crimson Hawk were being especially perceptive, they may have noticed a streak of black metal plummeting towards the ground preceded by a flash of red and blue.

There was no impact or surprise crater. Hell, there was barely even a sound! All that marked his landing zone were two portals: one red, one blue. Currently more projectile than man, The Commander sank into the red portal and immediately shot out the blue, inverted. No sooner had he arrived, he and the portals were gone. The portals? Collapsed. The man? Already hundreds of feet above the hotel.

Once gravity did its thing and provided the brakes necessary for his upcoming aerobatics, The Commander went to work. His right arm, now burning red, pointed towards a focal point several feet below him. His left, engulfed in flames of the blue variety, pointed at another location just above street level.

WHOM! whom!

Two new portals and some mid-air maneuvering resulted in him pulling off one of the most convoluted versions of a super-hero landing ever. And he did so at speeds that would not piss off millions of tax payers.

The man rose to his maximum height of seven and a half feet. His black helm was easily his most distinguishable feature. It encased his entire head save for a small opening around the eyes and nose. Even then, his facial features were hidden in the impossibly black void that existed beneath. The helm was excessively ornate to the point where it was almost offensive. Like someone sat down and started drawing the most grim-dark Gothic piece of armor they could imagine, and never stopped.

As for the rest of his clothing he wore a midnight blue dress shirt, unbuttoned with the collar popped and starched. It was long-tailed and certainly NOT tucked. He wore as many neckties as the ******** had left to give (Zero). He had on some neatly pressed suit-shorts (also midnight blue) and a pair of business casual loafers (no socks of course). All of this struggled to hide the type of frame one obtains from either extended prison time, or returning from Annaworld.

From this point onward, Vahn, Twitch, and Garah were no longer the only “brown-bodied” ******** here.

show spoilerhide spoiler

EVERYONE HERE Wrote:

Red Ace - Auto & More [Aekea] > Izzy’s apartment [???] > Crimson Hawk Hotel [Latent]

And now there was vomit on the floor of her garage. Black, tar-like vomit no less. Par for the course...

Wasn’t there some old adage that was appropriate for just this sort of situation?

Probably not.

Ryke caught the glimpse of Izzy’s shame from the corner of her eye while attempting to slink away from the scene. Guilt was not her forte, something she always struggled to face when it developed for any reason or another and it was harder yet today, here, now. The last thing she wanted to do was make her friend feel bad, feel like she was a problem or a burden and feel ashamed over something that was largely out of her control. Well, assumed to be out of her control. Ryke still was not privy to the tale behind the head in the bag and she wasn’t about to ask. Izzy could tell her when she was feeling better or she could speak with Melech. Either way, getting the back story was not important.

Melech stopped her from absconding with Connor, after he finished making sure Izzy was okay for the time being.

The two not-so-starcrossed-companions exchanged glances and shrugs. She conceded to release him into Melech’s company as the former abyssal made a brief phone call and explained to the four of them how everything was going to happen.

A private limo? Eh. Ryke would have protested, insisting she could take the bus but the idea of taking Izzy on public transportation any given day was probably asking for trouble, but today especially was not ideal. To this she conceded as well. They would have to run by her place as well, if they were going to be doing the tournament thing for real.

“Okay. You two have fun then. Remember to use protection and try not to get it on any of my tools. They’re expensive to replace!” She attempted to inject a little humor into the room, to combat the stifling awkwardness and brighten everyone’s spirits. That too was not usually her strength, that was always more common from Izzy but it was her turn to be the good friend. Her turn to offer support in a trying time and to not turn away when someone needed her the most. Despite whatever little nagging shadows of her own still lingered, the ones that drove her to the one reliable force. She had thrown herself into work with a frenzy and dedication not unlike Jake, who was more machine than she. The man never stopped working, until his body effectively overrode any free will and made him rest. There were many a time before when she had come in early to find him still there, in his own little corner of the garage. Lately, or for the past several months at least (or had it been a year now?), Ryke had been finding herself staying way too late and coming in far too early. Somewhere in the last few weeks, she must have missed the signs of Izzy’s struggle. Again, she felt neglectful. Maybe, hopefully, the event would give them some time to forget the things that have been plaguing them for a while.

“Alright kids, time to go. We’ve got a hotel to crash. Again.” Ryke slung one arm around Izzy’s shoulders and hooked an arm through one of Jake’s as she lead them around the sticky black splotch on her floor. “Don’t worry about the mess, the boys can clean it up after they’re done ‘talking’.”

Richardson’s limo had pulled up before long and was ready to escort the trio wherever they needed to go, with their end goal being Latent of course.

-

They made a pit stop at Izzy’s pad, with Ryke making sure to herd her into the shower while she and Jake gathered some essentials for the punker. That included having her smokes ready for immediate consumption, along with something to eat. A change of clothes, her cigs and a hot-dog wouldn’t magically fix whatever was broken, whatever caused her to snap but they would go along way to helping her feel a semblance of normalcy for now. Once they wrapped up, it was off to Latent.

-

It was awkward, for Ryke at least, to arrive by such decadent transportation. The limo pulled right up along the curb, front and center, giving any other arriving patrons and those already inside the building a purview of the flashy car. Would they think there were honest-to-goodness celebrities inside? Sorry to disappoint you folks, was her snarky internal dialogue. They weren’t celebrities, they had no real fame and that was perfectly fine with her. The looks of passersby as they climbed out of the vehicle was already off-putting enough without flashing cameras and pushy presss all vying for their attention.

Even before any of them could set foot on the curb, a commotion from over in the parking lot was drawing a lot of attention and could be heard clearly from their position at the front entrance to the Hotel proper. The only figure recognizable in the scuffle was that of Twitch, who was an important figurehead for the tournament and subsequently had been her preliminary opponent in a previous year. Anyone else was an unknown factor. The two lovers fighting against a strange man on all fours were only vaguely familiar. Weren’t they past competitors? Former champions even? Her knowledge of previous tournament years was minimal at best, not for a willful ignorance, but a lapse in memory. There were so many other things on her plate that it was hard to compartmentalize it all and leave room for things like past knowledge of Heaven or Hell.

“Wait, is that a spaceship? I- uh. Yeah okay. We should probably go check in before security shows up...”

“Cthulhu Wish” Wrote:

“Melech Dawntreader” Wrote:

“Just a Kroww” Wrote:

Garah was fast, propelled forward by the sheer gravity generated from the pair of planets in his pants. At least, that's what The Commander assumed. There was absolutely no other explanation for anyone attacking him head-on. Mr. Shinobi's bravado was commendable! Or was it stupidity?

Regardless, his response was the same.

Garah might have noticed a large, red-bordered image materializing in front of him. One bearing an uncanny resemblance to a certain limousine (as seen from above) that had just moments before arrived at the hotel.

Garah was fast. 31 yards per second fast. This image was well within those 31 yards. If Garah continued to approach at that velocity, he'd be introducing himself to the roof of the aforementioned limo at 31 yards per second. Thanks in no small part to the portals The Commander had graciously allowed him to "borrow".

Meanwhile, The Commander's eyes were locked on the power-couple before him. His fight was with them.

Or not?

Vahn took to the skies. His hotel room needed him.

The Commander's fists clenched. His eyes narrowed. He knew what he wanted to do. But he didn't. Instead, he let out a defeated sigh.

Next time...

Ground Floor - Bar - The Foam Party

Low thumps pulsed through lower floor, causing everything to vibrate to a distinct rhythm. The music came from massive speakers positioned on each side of the bar. The melodic yet primal tune was at volume that overwhelmed the cacophonous hum of the many there. A dense thicket humanity danced ecstatically to the beat.

All became one, lost and molded by harmony. She was among them. Her clothing was simple and light. Intimate contact with the throng was unimpeded by the sweat slick tank top and skin tight cut offs. The white fabric of her top was made translucent by perspiration. An aroma of bodies and alcohol wafted out throughout the lobby. Yet she did not mind.

Her body moved with the one in front of her and behind in revelry. She did not notice exactly when the dense cool foam fell from above, covering the bar and its many occupants. A cheer escaped her lips when she finally opened her eyes to the winter wonderland around her and mingled with the shouts and hoots of the foam party.

Trexasle Wrote:

> They seemed to be an annoyance more than anything, lest of all what seemed to be white foam surrounding the current area of the bar. Leon snarled moving his way through the dancing crowd and toward the bar, he was far from a good mood and honestly, he wasn’t up for anything but a good eat and a drink. Far from what these young punks were sitting here doing.

The way parted easily enough as Leon made his way through the undulating throng. It was a discomforting squeeze, hot, wet and randomly forceful. The grumbling stomach and thinly veiled fury that pulsed within Leon fueled his pursuit and those in his path were put out of his way.

That was until seemingly all at once Leon hit a wall and the force through which he navigated the hot and wet crowd was sent back against him. A clearing formed in the dancing crowd. Before him stood a imposing figure, though she was shorter than he. What she lacked in height, she made up in impressive athletic physique. Lean muscle formed womanly curves put on display in her drenched accouterments.

She gazed forward curiously at the man whose eyes were hidden behind hair with brown easy eyes after shaking water from her short hair. It was done up in a relaxed mohawk that covered half of her head, leaving the other shaved low and glistening in the blaring lights of the scene. Silver piercings glimmered in her nose, ears, and lips. A left hand brushed sweat from her brow. The limb was not of flesh, but of smooth polished stone that bent at limb naturally.

Leon had seen something like this before and she would seem, familiar somehow. Though they had never met.

"'Scuse me." She said dismissively. Her gaze shifted to one of derision, as if looking down on him despite being shorter for the offense of being in her way.

The Red Ace-Auto and More

♫♫♫

Normally, Izette hated this sort of affection. She would always tell Melech to stop ruining her street credit as she would touch her and show her such affection. But right now, her mind was screaming. She was too focused on worrying about other things to even care that he was being so sweet.

She was a god damn basket case.

And she knew it too as she could see it on everyone’s faces. They looked at her like she was so fragile. So…broken. And damn Melech for being so gentle with her as he examined her to ensure that everything was okay. But she wasn’t’, she just exploded with black s**t all over the ground and committed a felon. A major felon. Afterall, Izette had never actively killed someone before. Sure someone may have died from one of her knife wounds, but Izette never knew about it. Ignorance was always bliss.

As the punker sat up slightly, she looked and peered into the bag. She was expecting to see that the god was still dead. That’s what she was hoping for at least. She really couldn’t handle having it break into a chorus of laughter again. However, as she peered into the bag of ichor, she froze again as she saw that the face had changed. It wasn’t Narly in the bag anymore. Its features had shifted to Melech for a moment before shifting to Connor… and then the Noah’s. And it wasn’t ichor that was in the bag… but it was blood. Or was it? Was her mind playing tricks on her…? Was she actually in the shop with her friends….?

The colour in her face continued to drain as the woman let out another pile of vomiting of the black s**t that she had vomited up before. This seemed to be the only thing that seemed real as Izzy stared at the pile of ichor that seemed to collect at her feet. She knew that this was reality. Sitting back up again, her eye looked down into the bag to find that it was, in fact, Narly again.

Damn, her head really needed to stop playing tricks on her.

It wasn’t until the feeling of pressure on her side that Izzy felt something completely different. Everything became oversaturated in her sight as every colour seemed to get brighter for her. It was as though that everything that her mind was doing was suddenly being pushed out and left with this world of numbness and brightness. She had experienced something like this before once or twice with a few experimental drugs that had been dumped down her throat back in the day of the Cordeuceus Corporation… a rather dark time that she didn’t really like talking about. But that was generally Izette’s feeling about most of her life. She didn’t like talking about it. Izette was very much in the now…

And the now also sucked.

“Alright kids, time to go. We’ve got a hotel to crash. Again.” These were the first actual words that the punker felt as she had her hand placed on her shoulder. The feeling of warmth from her ginger friend actually made her smile as it felt real. No more of this bullshit that she had been struggling with the first couple of seconds. Whatever Melech did, it was starting to work.

“Don’t worry about the mess, the boys can clean it up after they’re done ‘talking’.”

“…Can we stop at Gazpacho's? I could really use some grub” Who knew vomiting so much gave you such an appetite?

Izzy’s Apartment

Radio: ♫♫♫

As Jake and Ryke gathered gear. The punker spent some time in the washroom. She still not sure how to feel as she stared herself in the cracked mirror after her long shower. Her brand new skin that she had with the new body had finally begun to show some damage of her antics and she wasn’t too sure if she was crazy about it. Especially seeing that she had just gotten this body. The only thing that she had managed to taint this body with really was the new ink ofa feather that she had on her right forearm. Now, there were light scars on her cheeks and a massive one side where the Beast had tried to carve out her kidneys with her own blade.

However, this was the first time that she could honestly admit that she was beginning to feel like herself. This was the first real bloodbath that she had where she actually wasn’t worried about taking care of this shell that she was given. A small smile formed on her lips as she began to chuckle to herself slightly over the sound of her music that she had playing to drown out the rest of the room. A,lthough behind her she quickly watched faint tentacles dance from the walls, she wasn’t scared. In fact she was rather amused.

With her swirled iris dancing around as she looked in the mirror (after all, what heathen wore their eyepatch in the shower), the punker began her make up process. Mouthing the words to the radio, she quietly applied her make up on as per usual. Although she was a fan of the blood, she decided to mimic her one eye with a heavy crimson red smoky eye.Once having that completely settled, the woman rubbed her hands together and began to run her fingers in her hair. However, unlike allow her hair to be the usual bob, the strands seem to shift magically as iris began to pulse with every movement more violently. The sides of her bob shortened to a buzz cut as the middle became a rather long mohawk with red tips. Normally, Izzy’s shapeshifting had always been other people, however, this new body did come with new perks. And having the chance to change your own appearance for cosmetic reasons was always fun. Smacking her eyepatch with the white “x” over her eye, the punker grinned. She was ready.

BAM

The bathroom door broke off the hinges that it was barely holding onto and the punker emerged out into the hall grinning with the chorus of “ole” blaring over the radio. And naturally, she was there, naked. With her pierced nipples on full display along with her other bits.

“ALRIGHT BITCHES. LET’S ROLL”

The Crimson Hawk

Izette must have smoked two packs of her cigarettes at this point as she proceeded to light another one once the vehicle came to a stop. They had finally arrived, and surprisingly enough it was shocking to see the amount of pushy press and flashing cameras. They weren’t here an hour ago when Izette arrived on scene and made a mess upstairs.

Almost canonly the collection of cigarette smoke flowed out of the car as Izette revealed herself to the crowd. She quickly placed her hand on her hip and began to pose for each of the flashing cameras. Although she wasn’t wearing anything red carpet worthy, she was wearing clothes cause Ryke insisted she did before leaving the apartment. She was no longer wearing her clothes stained with blood but a black leather with a skull and crossbones on it, a pair of black skinny jeans with chains hanging off it, and a zebra print tank top that she had in the back of her closet. However, the cameras quickly stopped as they realized that these people weren’t exactly anything special when it came to the history of Heaven or Hell.

Sure, they were names that were known. But they weren’t someone as famous as team Glacier or Bloody Pandas. They were underdogs. Underdogs that had never actually made it to the finals. And of course, there was Jake, who in this instance no one knew who he was at all.

Walking on the cement Izette paused as Ryke indicated towards the strange vehicle that was parked on their limo.

“Wait, is that a spaceship? I- uh. Yeah okay. We should probably go check in before security shows up...”

“Don’t be silly, it’s a limoship. It’s not even in space.” The punker took a long drag from her cigarette before flicking the cherry to the ground. Turning to her cousin she smiled and offered him another cigarette. Her moments of oddness were gone, and Izette was somewhat back to normal at this point.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe, we should wait another 15 minutes….” At that moment the punker looked on the screen of her Gphone. She was looking at the time. She knew that in 15 minutes, the shifts would be changing for the staff at the hotel. Which meant that Izette wouldn’t be yelled at as much as she would have been by the staff. At least this was it could guarantee that she was only going to be yelled at Ryke rather than the entire hotel for damaging her room.

“Besides, Jakey-boi and I just started another cigarette. You know smoking ain’t allowed in this fancy a** place” Not that Izzy ever cared in the past. But right now she did, and she was going to take her time finishing her cancer stick.

“Besides, enjoy the fame Zandy-pants. You are the famous ZANDRA RYKE OF TEAM WIMMENZ AND TEAM AWESOME. GET IT WHILE YOU CAN BOYS. SHE IS SINGLE AND READY TO MINGLE.” Izette blurted rather loudly the name of her best friend as she began to point towards her in order to prevent her from going inside the Hawk. Instantly, reports quickly ran over and began to continue taking more pictures and shoving microphones at the ginger. They wanted to know what she was doing now. Afterall, much had happened since the last time they entered these walls and competed.

"Sins of an Angel" Wrote:

"Just a Kroww" Wrote:

"Melech Dawntreader" Wrote:

Finally, some-one who fought back!

When a limousine appeared in front of him, Garah Kirjearim went in-to a running slide, rocketing under the vehicle on his right side. Digging Excalibur in-to the earth, Garah came to a stop in front of his opponent. He got up, and, using two hands, he ripped his sword out of the terra firma, sawing up-ward at his new adversary.

Trexasle Wrote:

> Then suddenly from his hair, one could see the Luminescent glow of his eye. The Iris had shrunk and Leon himself was suddenly still, his breathing had shockingly normalized along with the rest of his now still. Then it would finally be noticeable, Electricity crackled around his body. He clenched his fist, electricity began to light across his hand, illuminating the room with even more light. “Who the **** ya’ callin’ Boi!”He yelled as he quickly struck back mirroring her exact cross right across her face. But On Impact the sound would almost seem to reverb, almost violently in impact, suddenly though what would follow would seem to be an explosion of sound, a sonic wave that was surely focused enough to push her back, and the high pitched squeal of the reverb should be sure to annoy her.

As if struck by lightning the furious blow sent her off her feet into a flip. Yet she did not collide completely with the floor. She landed upon her hands and knees with a resounding crack. She exhaled as if to release the pain in her body and looked up defiantly at the long haired man. Sapphira did not know who he was, but she was happy she did not inherit her fathers weakness to sound.

The titanic impact caused her muscles to stiffen for a moment. Her ears rang with a shrill keening and she could not hear the crowd that surrounded them. She stood up with some struggle, her vision somewhat hazy.

Eventually though, she came to her feet, she spit a wad of grey blood out from her mouth, wiping her pale face with her stony limb. She was tough. Way tougher than a young girl of 17 ought to be.

"Ain't nobody gone call me out of my name and get away with it"

Her clinched fist raised on guard and a smile grew on her face.

"You hit like a b***h", said the scrappy teen.