Parking Lot [Page 3]

This was all a very large mess. The space ship had crashed into one of the large men and all of the others who had been involved in the brawl seemed to still be gathering their wits to make sense of what had just happened. Tekka came around the back end of one of the parked vehicles and near to the melee that was taking place but far enough away to not be caught up in flying fists and feet.

There were many people here, more than she had noticed from the other side of the Parking Lot. She did not know any of these people, but one of the large angry ones seemed familiar. Or perhaps it was because he stood out so much from the other humans that she felt this way. Tekka had a difficult time telling humans apart, because their features were all so similar and they never had horns or tails or brimstone teeth.

She saw fighting here, but she did not see what she had come to the fighting looking for. Tekke puzzled over this for a moment before deciding to herself that the best way to find what she wanted was to be direct about it. And so with a loud *THUNK* the small woman clanged her empty bar glass onto the fender of the vehicle she stood beside to create attention from any person who was not still staring intently at the crashed space ship.

"My drink is empty! It is I that seeks this fixed!"

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Sins of an Angel Wrote:

Fight club and everyone was invited? Hell yeah!

“Pollen” Wrote:

> ”Thanks!” > > > > That was taken care of. Ivy turned around…

He didn’t ask politely. Actually, he didn’t ask anything at all.

“Bonsaaaaaaaaai!” Connor Kroww came sailing out of the night, a hot pink car door held aloft like a hang glider and coming down hard on Ivy as she turned. He led with legs bent, rusted greaves and boots with metal plating bolted on haphazardly. There was a wild grin on his face on approach. Why did he look so happy to be crashing into a little girl? Why the ******** not? She just nailed a Jotun with a rocket hammer, should he really mind beating her up?

...nah.

*[ Valucre - Predators Keep ]*

It was difficult to pinpoint the correct location when leaping from universes, the best she could truly come up with was 'point and shoot' and then hopeshe'd landed in the correct world, at least. It was one of the things that came with tuning powers, the training was something you just had to do without knowledge from books or tombs, a hands on experience. There was something huge going on on Gaia Prime soon, and the tournament was supposedly going to be the last of a line of them that she'd always missed out on entering. Valucre be damned, for now, Red was entered and would participate in the fabled Heaven or Hell whether those around her agreed or not.

She still wasn't sure if it was the best idea she'd come up with.

After awhile of thumbing through old, dusty books, Red finally huffed her last irritated breaths and focused on opening a breach between universes, one that would connect Valucre to Gaia Prime-- Specifically anywhere she felt the most familiar people would be gathered, and watched as a bluish swirling rip in time and space appeared before her. Hoisting her bow onto her back, light metal clanking and shifting all over her person where her newly polished (and never worn) armorfitted to her person, she mentally ran over her checklist and then stepped through the breach.

*[ Gaia Prime - The Parking Lot ]*

The veryfirst thing that the psion laid her crimson cybernetic eyes on was a gigantic spaceship that had crash landed on the warm asphalt. A deep frown tugged at her lips as a rather familiar signature struggled from within the ship. Blinking, she watched was an empty seat launched into the air, quietly mumbling some sort of idiotic obscenities against the pilot of that ship, one she had actually been of a mind to look for back on Valucre. For reasons. Not moments later Leon was next to launch, standing on top of the seat as it ejected him into the air. If she was of the mind, she might had face palmed herself over the scene, but her attention shifted to the rest of the present figures standing around the lot.

Someone door checked someone else with a very pink door, that they were holding. Some were standing around talking. There had been a brawl before Leon's ship crashed? It all seemed very reminiscent of her time on this world, almostlike home. For now though she had no intentions of joining the fray, her portal had opened up just on the edge of the building everyone had been apparently booted from, so for now the blonde would lean her rump against the brick wall and crossed her arms, watching.

Designated Hero Wrote:

> "st, Ebris. I'd have to look a hell of a lot worse than this to compete with you. Though I guess you could say that I've Forgotten how to take care of myself."**

...And Ebris just kinda stared back at Cole with a slightly confused and uncomfortable expression.

”Ah...err, think yeh gotta work ‘n yer rejoinders thurr, Jimbo.”

Now having managed to get a better look at the sumbitch, he really did look like grod. Ebris had seen the look before: the sag in the shoulders, the sunken pits below the eyes, the stare of someone who’d dun washed up their career. He’d gone through that grod himself, until he promptly kicked his own a** back into shape. That was no way to live life, and though he could never forgive Cole for claiming that his slurs were made-up space words (the rathin’ nerve), he couldn’t bear to see the chump go on like this.

Designated Hero Wrote:

> ”Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I missed this. Y’know...us.”

”Rathin’ hell, Cole, gettin’ all sentymental on ol’ Ebris, eh? Ah getcha - c’mere and give me a Throne-damned hug.”

With his arms still thrown wide, Ebris was right and ready to hug the Jimbo - and crush every vertebrae in his rathin’ body so finely that you could snort it through a straw. It’d have been an absolutely beautiful way to rekindle their hateship.

Would have, if it weren’t for the fact that some other Jimbo thought it was a swell idea to run them over with a space superiority fighter.

”Whut in th’ rathin’ hell-” Ebris began, a craggy brow quirking upward, and leaned over to take a gander at the source of the ruckus that had just kicked up. He knew the sound of interplanetary thrusters anywhere, so he wasn’t surprised to see the Throne-damned spacecraft hurtling towards him and the Cole Jimbo. Not surprised, but more than a bit miffed. ”Some motherrathers always dun tryin’ ta iceskate uphill,” he quipped before reaching behind him with his free hand, sliding it beneath his duster. He was about to grab a hold to the solution to this problem, and would have allowed the pair of them to get down to the act of making their faces concave, when something even more annoying happened.

*WHUD*

A stream of space curses blurted out of Ebris’ maw as Cole proceeded to drop a front kick right into his solar plexus. He felt his armour - 4 throne-damned millimeters of hardened ceramic battle plate - buckle from the strength behind that attack, and Ebris found himself airborne for several unpleasant moments. The car that was immediately within his trajectory had the even more unpleasant fate of having nearly 500lbs of bounty scum and gear crash into it. Ebris barely noticed the impact, despite the whole frame of the vehicle buckling around his sprawled body, as he was too busy gasping for breath for a moment.

But hey, at least he still managed to hold onto the booze without smashing it.

After guzzling another bit of the stuff down, Ebris shook his head and extricated himself from the wreckage, steel and aluminum warping and groaning as his bulk crumpled it aside. He had to take a moment to assess what the rath had just happened, as getting kicked by his favorite Jimbo had been like getting broadsided by a semi cruising through a neighborhood. Fortunately, it didn’t seem anything had been broke by the kick - not that he’d expect any Jimbo to accomplish such a feat. Glancing about with a tight gaze, he saw the flaming wreckage of the spacecraft. *Rath me, that’s a waste ‘v’a’ few million creds,* he mused, before glancing over to his right...and finally spotted a pair of still feet, sticking out from behind a car.

”Cole Jimbo, NOOOOOOOOOOOOahh, rath ‘em.”

Shrugging, Ebris finished off the last of the rotgut swill - realizing that the fires that now consumed the jet were likely fueled from the same grod he had chugged - and hucked the empty bottle over the car, very likely into the Jimbo’s skull. If he wasn’t dead, that’d sure as hell wake his a** up.

For now, though, he had another Jimbo to take care of.

The bounty hunter began to stomp over to the downed spacecraft, but his efforts were seemingly in vain as the chump rocketed out of his vessel, his ejection seat carrying him high off into the air. Ebris was as big a sumbitch as they could come, but not even he could reach the Jimbo now. Not with his mitts, anyway.

Lowering his glance, Ebris stepped around, assessing the arena before him: its denizens, the objects within it, the terrain, and everything else. With all those factors in mind and in play, the bounty scum began to think.

Well, sort of.

Face contorting into something hideous as the mathematical calculations broke his mind, Ebris stomped left exact seven feet, and then forward ten feet. Face twitching the entire time, he made minor adjustments as the ejection seat continued to rise, gradually reaching its apex. When it finally came to a halt, slowly floating to the surface, Ebris raised his left arm, and clenched his hand and fingers shut in a peculiar manner. With a pneumatic retort, his grappling hook fired out, the composite cord whining loudly as its length was quickly unspooled...unspooled…

*TH-CHUNK*

...and pulled taught as the ceramite harpoons impaled the chair towards the bottom left of its chassis.

That’d likely get the Jimbo’s attention, and if he were to take a gander earthward, he’d catch Ebris waving at him with his left hand. Waving, until the behemoth moved like a living train at full tilt. The bounty hunter lifted his left foot up, twisted it all the way around, and slammed it down. He pivoted, throwing his entire body into a monstrous overhead pull with his left hand, the gesture as though he was trying to arc his fist into the asphalt like a rathin’ metor.

While his fist wasn’t a meteor, the chair would be, as Ebris’ absolutely stupid levels of strength and the recoiling of the grappling hook dragged the chair down to earth at terminal velocities. If Jimbo didn’t have an ejection seat within his ejection seat, or some other manner of escape, he’d soon discover just how many different colors there were inside of him, and what manner of modern art they’d paint once they met the blacktop.

Trexasle Wrote:

There's no way in hell Rwanda Orisha Rollin, the Goddess of Might, wouldn't be at the parking lot to witness all these strong souls. But she didn't land there as some humongous giantess. Nor did she arrive in a flash of light and lightning and fire and wind. She lightly stepped onto the asphalt semi-invisible, semi-intangible, and mostly unnoticeable, unless there were those with special sixth senses. Even then she actively suppressed her presence to not disturb the flow of events.

If someone was to notice her, she would be standing 8 feet tall and dressed in street wear: T-shirt, booty shorts, and sandals. Not the most regal attire but she wasn't trying to show off for any potential souls to join her religion of Might. Then again, her physique of curves and muscle blended with African femininity was awe inspiring in itself. With a roll of her neck, and swish of her tremendous Afro, she glanced down at the poor sod laid prone at her feet.

Jak.

She knelt beside him, hovered her left metal hand above his face, and snapped her fingers. His body remained still, but his soul, a bluish aura, sat up independent of his flesh. He looked at Rwanda. He looked behind him at his physically swelling face, and shook his phantom head.

[********]

Rwanda sighed. “Come home, Jak. Let's turn you back to my sister. You're done.”

“No.”

Rwanda looked at him, expecting an explanation. But he remained silent and unwilling. “I can't help you if you don't talk to me. There's something wrong, I can feel it...”

Jak stared at the ground at his sister's feet. “I've been on a slump longer than what you see before you. I fought my hardest in Jötunheimr and failed. I'm more broken now. Way weaker. I'm a joke. I thought becoming a man might change things. It changes nothing other than the sister you know being dead...”

Rwanda sighed. The corners of her mouth raised a little as she reached out and patted Jak's soul on the back. “Sister, brother, doesn't matter, Jak. You're you, alive and kicking. And I will accept any you you decide to be. I love you all the same. I'm just worried you haven't accepted yourself.”

Jak gawked at her in surprise. The tough man act shattered. The rage fell away, and the truth behind his raw emotions came to light. Sadness. A deep, overwhelming sadness. Just to give it any adjacency seized his soul with anxiety as he trembled and hyperventilated. His face tensed as he struggled to keep back the flood. “I-I-I need to fight. I don't care if I get knocked down again. I need to get back in there. I need... I need to find out what I am.”

“Jak...”

“Sis, please.”

Rwanda drew in a sharp breath and nodded her head slowly. “Okay, fine. But you must do two things for me. Fight with some care and protect yourself. And come talk to me when you feel ready. I always got your back, you know that, bro.”

Jak smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek. He raised a fist.

Rwanda bumped it with her metal own. She's been down the same road Jak's on. It's a miserable and dark and lonely road of self-reflection. It's internally painful and filled with pitfalls. But for Jak to become greater than ever before, he had to face his demons. The very metal arm she had bumped Jak's ghost fist remained a reminder of the suffering she had faced after her defeat by Radek. The struggle she had to experience to lift herself up again lead to what she was today, a real goddess.

Jak settled back into his body. Rwanda stood and lifted up her right arm. She called forth a couple dark clouds, a few claps of thunder, and then a – CRACK – of lightning.

It lit Jak's body with a huge surge of mystical electricity, jolting him awake. As the ground smoked from the blast, Jak's body continued to spark and crawl with strings of lightning as he got back to his feet. Once more into the fray. Once more.

*When there was one huge guy, Enness might have jumped in for the hell of it, but then a second, even more huge guy, joined the first, and he was having none of that right now. So instead he’d watch the bromance budding between the two, while also watching that a** of Jay in ridiculously tight pants as she went to throw herself against a brick wall or two. He had tried to stop her, really. But she was a big girl who could make her own decisions, even if they were very questionable ones.

Unfortunately the bromance got cut off before Enness got to see what it looked like when two mountains collided into each other, because a lot of crazy s**t happened real fast. First, there came a noise that rivalled the decibel level of the space redneck’s brouhahaing when a VW van equivalent of a spaceship went whooshing past towards the two mountains. That seemed ill advised, but warranted nothing more than a shrug as it wasn’t his problem.

What was his problem however, was that he suddenly had a Jay flying towards him. It seemed she at least knew to nope the ******** out when a large flight capable craft was headed in her general direction. He blinked, staring at her for a moment, then spread his arms wide to catch the little flying woman before closing around her. Her momentum would take them over and off the SUV, securing the precious bottle of whiskey snugly between their bodies, after which his back would impact against the ground with a thud. Somehow she always wound up on top.*

“So guess we’re not going to space anytime soon.”

*He was left blinking in momentary shock again when he found the little woman’s lips pressed to his, losing himself briefly until something in the sky caught his eye. While in his position flat out, he followed the ejection plume of first an empty, than an occupied seat, presumably from the spacecraft. The best part came next, watching as a hook shot across the sky pulling a metallic looking cord before sinking into the occupied ejection seat. Enness had to get himself one of those.

Sitting himself up, the man looked on as the cord was pulled taught and heard a wailing sound as the object in the air arced across the sky like a shooting star. His eyes turning to Jay standing beside him, he laughed as he knew what was coming. She had a look that she was possibly just as displeased about things being interrupted as it sounded like one of the mountainous guys was. A hand reached up, connecting against the woman’s a** with a satisfying smack.*

“Go get ‘em, ratel.”

Darkest Silver Wrote:

>>> 20%

Ivy had never felt so popular.

One raging man charging at her with a fearsome yell had been flattering enough, but that could have been just dumb luck, a chance meeting in a crowd. Two, though? That kind of attention said something about a girl. Apparently all Ivy had to do was stand there, and guys would literally throw themselves at her.

Their passion lit a fire in her, one that made her all the more eager to reciprocate their affections. As her new dance partner came sailing down from above, she lowered her head, gazing up into his eyes over the rims of her glasses, and cried out in reply.

"Tea cakes!"

What? It was the first thing that came to mind. Everyone else seemed to have a battle cry, so it only made sense that she should have one too. She just didn't really have time to decide on one right now.

After all, she was too busy headbutting her opponent in the face.

That feeling rising in her belly hadn't been just excitement- it was power. Her eyes brightening, her heartbeat accelerating, energy building and building and begging to be recklessly unleashed. It was hard to see it amidst the chaos, but the very air around her seemed to be faintly tinted red. Once again, she slipped from stillness into motion, only this time there would be no smoke or fire. Only pure, unadulterated, ludicrous speed.

Quote: Wrote:

> [Go Faster]: Shifts Ivy 5 feet in any direction at 60 mph. 3 turn CD. If she moves directly towards her opponent, gain 10% BERSERK.

As soon as Connor came into range, the girl shot into him like a living missile. The moment she'd locked her eyes on his, she'd also locked on, readying herself to launch her surprisingly hard skull into his soft features at velocities more appropriate for a car accident than a martial strike. The collision would more than likely leave her with a concussion or worse- but would also double her score of brutally smashed faces for the night thus far.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Just a Kroww Wrote: