Smash & Sass vs Mountain [Page 1]

Heaven or Hell: RE-Union - Round 2

Team Smash and Sass vs. Team Mountain

The Abandoned Battlefield

The packed dirt area is marred with muddy puddles of dirty water dotting the rugged landscape, evidence of recent battles, the earth trampled beneath hundreds of soldiers. Discarded weapons have been removed for the safety of the competitors, but salvage and wreckage of war machines remains strewn across the battlefield. In the distance is a shattered fortress, and the hill leading up to it is marked by a winding path of trenches and hastily built siege fortifications.

Weapons - None.

Bonus Effects - None.

Round 2 Weather Conditions: Daytime, Fog

Quiet was an apt descriptor of the location for their second round of fighting. The long since forgotten battlefield was enveloped in a haunting fog that made the silence feel all the more ominous. Or at least, it would have been were she actually focused on the lack of signs and sounds of life.

Ryke strolled along seemingly aimlessly, the first of her teammates to arrive, and kicked at pebbles and sploshed in a few muddy puddles as she passed them, all the while tuned out from the world around her and tuned into the music pumping into her ears. The surrounding land wasn’t exactly a pirate ship but not every arena was going to be quite so unique. This place felt a little too open for her liking. While it seemed like she wasn’t paying much mind to the scenery at large, that would be an inaccurate assumption. If anything, she was taking mental notes of the layout and taking consideration of the neglected husks of machines and other ghosts of a war wages long ago.

Not that uh, she could recall any major wars in Gaia’s history but there were probably some. Truth be told, she didn’t have the best memory when it came to historical events.

Ryke was in no hurry to begin and so it was with complete leisure that she wandered through the old battlefield nodding her head along to the music as she took stock of what kind of terrain this would be and where the best places to rumble would be. Her jacket kept the slight chill from the fog at bay and her boots offered excellent traction against the terrain composed of dirt, mud, rubble and whatever else. It was daytime but much of the sun was covered by the gray fog and meant visibility would be limited, but there had to be some level of challenge in such a wide open arena such as this one. All the same, her goggles were worn not on her head this time but firmly over her eyes and playlist details from the gPod scrolled across her vision through the HUD display while she shuffled through track lists until something satisfied her...

show spoilerhide spoilerCustom gBuds: Ryke improved on an existing design for her own personal uses. These devices fit around the ear, with an internal piece akin to wireless earbuds or your typical bluetooth, they were designed to be less bulky while still being functional and would be no bigger than most modern hearing aids. Their non-combative function allows them to wirelessly connect to her portable music player (her gPod) and stream her music of choice. They have a secondary function of protecting her ears from extreme sound/noise. After a certain decibel they kick in and dampen incoming sound to avoid damage to the inner ears/ear drum. Additional status effects are reduced by half but not eliminated.

gPod: A small, black, portable music player that fits nicely in her pockets and connects wirelessly to her custom gBuds to play her tunes. The device is protected by a shock absorbing reinforced case to guard against impact and is resistant to extreme temperatures much like the goggles, but can last up to 10 minutes before damage becomes evident unlike the goggles. The gPod’s secondary function, besides playing music, is to interface with the HUD inside the goggles. Having the GUI/interface built into the gPod is not ideal but she’s still working out the finer details of her new tech. This allows track information to also show up on the HUD while in use.

Blast Goggles - A pretty resilient pair of goggles that serve her well inside the garage as well as out. They fit over and across the eyes and provide protection from the elements, such as wind, dust and debris. The polycarbonate lenses are strong, shatter-proof, fog reducing and provide 99.9% UVA/B/C protection.

HUD Display: Normally the HUD provides information useful to her occupation, as they were designed to assist her in the garage but have been tweaked to offer assistance in the ring. The HUD has different features. First, they work in conjunction with her gBuds and will display track information for what is currently playing on the gPod. Non-combative function.

gPod Display

Playlist:https://open.spotify.com/user/1271405120/playlist/2eXwhWENVYIXWCOyraJbP6?si=pA3xbmwQT8OP-kZaG4rvsQ

Currently Playing: https://open.spotify.com/track/64Hrna39Gj1c15KHTFfxhq?si=b-Mceyg0QsafQ_-py-TzDw

~ 30 Minutes Earlier ~

"That must be the place, huh?"

Anson said it to no one but the wind; the married couple were sitting in the cab of the old pickup and the plus one was leaning up against the side in the truck bed watching the scenery pass. Between the gravel under the tires and the sound of the old diesel beater chugging up and down these rolling hills it hadn't been much of a trip for conversation.

It was a cool day, and there wasn't much of a breeze to speak of. Probably why the heavy fog from the morning was still lingering in every low spot it could find and shrouding the old battlefield in a dream-like haze that made everything seem so surreal. As they crested another hill a break in the fog appeared at the peak of a large hill in the distance, revealing first the tip of a tower and then more, weathered rooftops and battered walls, the cracked shell of a castle that wasn't able to withstand whatever siege had torn this hill apart in years past.

'It looks kind of... lopsided.'

The fog closed up again a moment later, sealing up that hole in the misty blanket that was laid over the aging fortifications and broken down machines left to rot alongside the bloodsoaked ground. It was completely serene, and positively eerie as a result. Anson reached up and brushed a long strand of blonde hair out of his face as the truck turned and the breeze took hold of it; feeling the goosebumps on his skin from the combination of the chill in the air and the field ahead of them. There were spirits in this place, he could smell them in the air. He could hear them in the silence. He could see them in the skeletal forms that poked out from the mist, reaching into the sky towards that vague glow in the distance.

He shifted a bit, sliding his back up against the back of the cab and pulling his loose-fitting denim jacket closed a bit more to fight off the chill that was slowly soaking in. It wouldn't be long now, it was probably time for him to start getting ready. Forming a connection with the spirits was something that took time, and they were fickle. In their last battle he had brought the Wolf with him, but the trickster wound up being a poor fit for squaring off against the black ork who overshadowed him so much in size and strength. Choosing what weapons you take with you into battle is just as important as any other type of preparation, and a poor choice could put him at a severe disadvantage.

So who would be his passenger today? Would the Wolf get another chance, or would it be the Stalwart? Perhaps the Soul of the Sauna would be able to use it's control of water to pull an advantage out of this mist? As Anson turned these thoughts over in his head he pulled his duffel bag up into his lap and unzipped it, digging through until he felt something smooth and stretchy.

'...maybe it's time to bring out the Dragon...?" the young man from Mountain thought to himself as he pulled a rubber mask out of his bag.

show spoilerhide spoiler

That old twenty-gold mask he had picked up from the Heaven or Hell gift shop years ago. It was a little beat up, the color was fading in some places, and the hair spikes were losing their rigidity. Still good enough quality to have fooled that recluse Ammiel Moonblade for about thirty seconds or so, though. But no, today wasn't a day for his other, other alter-ego Ryu-Guy Kazamaru. Today would be--

*Ka-CHUNK!* whuddawuddawhuddawhudda

~ Now ~

"Okay it's starting to roll--!"

As gravity took hold of the pickup Anson rushed his next couple of steps to close the gap and then jumped up unto the back bumper, one hand still gripping the tailgate where he had been pushing the broken-down piece of scrap up the far side of the hill and the other hand reaching down to grab the shoulder of Rayner's jacket as he jumped up onto the back beside Anson.

The old girl had thrown... something... about 3 miles and 20 minutes back and after trying and failing to get it moving again under its own power Celeste had pushed Rayner out of the driver's seat, popped it into neutral, and started making executive decisions. Thankfully half of the trip had been downhill, but that also meant that the other half was uphill, pushing a truck.

Whatever chill had been in him before had completely left Anson by now, and he could feel the sweat from that long haul soaking into his tight-fitting denim jacket. He took a moment to open it up a bit more to feel the cool air as they started picking up more speed. It looked like the momentum was going to carry them down the dirt path leading into the thick of the trenches and at least partway up the hill that the keep stood upon. In the meantime, Anson leaned over into the truck bed and grabbed his duffel bag, pulling out a piece of warped steel with a leather strap attached to it.

"Sound the horn, Lady Celeste, because the cavalry has arrived!"

And as Team Mountain rolled into the area on the back of something held together with solder and good intentions, Anson swept up his hair with one hand and pulled the strap of the iron mask under it with the other, setting the rough-looking half mask in place as he symbolically readied himself for whatever type of monsters and men were waiting for them out in that fog.

The Soul of the Fury was already burning his blood, making him impatient to let out some of this tension that was building up inside.

show spoilerhide spoilerSpirit Energy: 50%

Bonded: Soul of the Fury

-- Furious Strength bonus: +150% base strength

Aspected: Unaspected

Passive Abilities: Righteous Fury (fury, minor), Furious Strength (fury, major)

Active Abilities: None

Despite everything, Rayner loved the truck. It was his one car that didn’t look shiny, and expensive, and new, the last vehicle he’d kept from when he was living from one tournament check to another, patching gaps with some auto and appliance repair. Theseus’ Truck here was as much new interior parts as old though, with some updated electronics to make it easy to keep the kids happy and comfy whenever one of the girls tagged along. Two front seats and a big, glorious bed. Non obtrusive, even if large, good for moving things or taking tough roads. He’d kept her up just fine, seemingly replacing just enough to keep her in good repair and singing until-

themightyjello Wrote:

> *Ka-CHUNK!* whuddawuddawhuddawhudda

They’d blown a bit of time checking out the undercarriage and engine block, but whatever was going on was either too buried and unobtrusive to find with everyone impatiently milling and a date with some camera crews milling somewhere in the distance through this pea soup, he’d given up after failing to find it for a while. Could have been he’d mismatched some new and old parts badly- he hadn’t had a lot of time to devote to the car at all since the mess at Durem, and none at all since Heaven or Hell had begun. Not enough time for it to break down unless he’d done something wrong, which he was adamant was clearly not the case, even as Cel rolled her eyes.

Internally, he was convinced that something had blown the more sensitive electronics on one of his new bits.Ghosts did that sometimes, right? He wasn’t going to mention them, but down over the hill in the fog, he could see things moving in places or ways they shouldn’t now and again, and just feel that tingle on his neck.

He’d caught Anson staring off at them a few times too, so he was fairly sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Normally he’d have wanted to get the hell out of a place like this as quickly as possible. The fact that he could SEE lingering spirits who weren’t in full on, juiced-up haunting mode in no way made him more inclined to like seeing them. The wondering what happened to them, if there was humanity left or just a shade of a person, like a blurred reflection lingering. The wondering what came next. The hairs standing up on the back of his neck- or the fact that even when others passed by unnoticed, they always seemed to see him. So far though, the only one he’d passed anywhere near had just wandered as if shellshocked, stopping to stare at him in a silent, immensely creepy way until they’d gotten out of some arbitrary range and it returned to what it was doing. Nosir. Didn’t care for it. Pushing the truck was a little bit of a distraction, but as he and the kid hustled and hauled themselves on the back, he couldn’t wait for something proper to keep him from feeling that prickly on his neck, those eyes on him, as if from everywhere.

Fortunately, once they could get to wherever the trench line they were supposed to meet near was, he’d have fighting (probably) to keep his mind off it, and from the looks of it, a wealth of old relics from the local war that his ma would have loved to see for herself.

A burnt out shell of some old APC type of vehicle sped by them as they rolled and bounced along down, catching a glimpse of a translucent body standing next to it- either it was on some kind of silent spectral fire, or the mist was screwing with his eyes. God, this place was too quiet even for a field of the dead. Nevermind that- "Hey, Cel-" he banged on the bed, "-think there are enough of those around we could scrounge the parts to repair one? Imagine, a leaving, working piece of history-" they came to an abrupt stop and he jounced, trying not to bite his tongue.

As the truck rolled in to an abrupt stop at some unknown point in the mist, the young man in the back jumped over the tailgate into the bed of the pickup and, with two strides and a stoop down to grab the scabbard of the sheathed sword that had been laying beside his duffel bag, he stepped up first onto the toolbox at the end of the truck bed and then onto the roof of the cab. Even with the higher vantage point it didn't make their surroundings any clearer. A wreck nearby them faded into nothingness in the fog from one end of it to the other, a tall object to the other side poked up through the obscuring mist into the sky but gave no hint as to what sort of object lay below that long metal arm, and ahead of them at the edge of his vision he could see the ground fall away into a trench but the other side was nothing more than a dark blur through the white cloud.

But there was no sign of their opponents.

Anson's knuckles whitened inside of his gauntlet as he clutched the scabbard in his left hand, anxious for something to happen and uneasy about the silence in this old graveyard. It was too quiet, quiet enough that he could hear the whispers of things that should not have been able to speak anymore. Ghosts of the past, spirits of the dead, it was a place that was thick with them and the Fury made him too impatient to ignore the whispers completely. He needed something to take his mind off of them, he needed something to focus on...

"Sir Kael, I'm going to search the area."

The young man from Mountain reached up with his right hand and pulled the iron mask into place over his face, covering from his forehead to the bridge of his nose but leaving his mouth uncovered. His shoulders tensed and he drew in a deep breath of the cool and humid air, feeling the fabric of his jacket pull tight against him; the Fury had caused his muscles to swell as it heated his blood and coursed through his veins.

Every spirit that he contracted with held some sway over his body and his heart, such was the cost of inviting the essence of another to share his soul. The Fury, more so than any other spirit he had previously bonded with, exerted its influence upon his physical form: standing almost two inches taller and gaining nearly half again his previous bulk, the formerly average young man now stood at 6' 1" and with the addition of his equipment and the leather armor he wore under the jacket he would be coming in at nearly 300 lbs after the transformation. Formerly average, currently Olympian.

And then --

"PREPARE YOURSELVES, FOR I AM HERE!"

The shout not only boomed throughout the entire area like a cannon being fired, but the mists ahead of them parted to make way for his voice like a tunnel had been bored through that wall of white... an open road inviting him in... for but a moment, before the mists closed again around him.

But by then the impatient young man had already hopped down off of the stalled vehicle and charged recklessly up the hill ahead of him.

show spoilerhide spoiler[Minor] Hellscream

Cost: 15%

Effect: Creates a tremendous burst of wind and sound that sends anything in a conical area in front of the user flying backwards with sizable force. An average adult male would likely be thrown back 10 feet from the initial burst and pushed further after hitting the ground until the scream ends.

Duration: This effect lasts for up to 1 post, meaning that it may be an instantaneous effect or may remain in effect through the opponent's post and end at the start of the user's next post.

show spoilerhide spoilerSpirit Energy: 50%

-15% Hellscream

= 25%

Bonded: Soul of the Fury

-- Furious Strength bonus: +125% base strength

Aspected: Unaspected

Passive Abilities: Righteous Fury (fury, minor), Furious Strength (fury, major)

Active Abilities: Hellscream (fury, minor)

" That doesn't look safe V."

Cypher got out of the car aswell, making sure to keep all weaponry and caffeinated beverages aimed safely away from Raven, and bumped the passenger door of the car closed with a well placed hip. He took in the catapult with a dubious look, taking a sip of his drink as he walked a slow circle around the aged weapon, going so far as to poke at it with his foot. The slime climbed up in the bucket like the worlds possibly goopiest projectile and looked around at them as if waiting for them to join him/her/it. There was....no damn way.

" Nope, you're on your own. I'm going over that way."

V had a method of landing and was also a goopy b*****d. Cypher was filled with bones and was decidedly less goopy, he would walk the short distance towards the top of the hill below the castle and the trench that bifurcated it, humming softly to himself until some asshat on the other side of said hill had to go and dragonspeak themselves a gap in the ever present mist.

" Rance, think this one is you mate."

After their last fight he was done taking the loudest and flashiest fighters. Better to just let the knight take on whatever the hell that was and pick his battles abit more carefully from here on out. The mist and hill ceased to exist like they'd been erased, atleast to him, exposing raw earth where the hill should have been and a....who was that? Cypher would have called him a fan but unless they were letting dragon born fans participate, it had to be one of the other team. Now that he looked he could see the rest of them too. All gathered around a truck. On the other side of a hill they'd probably have to walk around now with the exception of V and maybe Rance.

The aelf resumed walking, hopping over the trench easily to circle around the hill on the side closest to the castle. It loomed over the battlefield like an aged warrior that hadn't succumbed to old age just yet. The scars were there, if you looked you could see where some kind of fire weapon had scorched the stone up near the battlements, the stone there kind of waxy looking where the intense heat had been enough to melt some of the stone and scar the rest. Cypher liked it.

" Raven, can we buy a castle? You and me, we'll make it a bed and breakfast or something. V can be the housekeeping, or the pool."

He didn't actually know if Raven was coming with him or going with V, right now he just wanted to hear the sound of his own voice over the sound of the wind blowing through the arrow slits and around the ramparts. His brush with death had only further fractured his mind more as a kind of defense mechanism like it had with his age. Aelf's lived long lives but he was one of the first of a race hand crafted by divinity, he was imperfect and the result had left him with a mind not really equipped to deal with living for as long as he had. Hopefully whoever he fought this round wouldn't make that worse.

themightyjello Wrote:

> > > "PREPARE YOURSELVES, FOR I AM HERE!"

Eternal Dirge Wrote:

> "Rance, think this one is you mate."

The voice shook the silent rest of the area and carved a swath through the fog that had rolled in, and all the same, it sent a shiver up Rance's spine.

Curiosity, an urge to fight, to clash and overcome, that voice, it called to something deep within Rance's soul, his essence, his very being. Not horror, but a vested interest rose in his chest, and adrenaline pricked at his senses. There was no doubt, whoever, whatever that voice belonged to, that was his opponent for this bout. After his largely disappointing bout with the mage the round before, finally, FINALLY, there in the mist, charging toward him, was the promise, the hint of a clash he'd been desiring since he wandered to that blacksmith's shop. "Damn right, Pointy-Ears. Wouldn't have it any other way." With a grin, Rance didn't even so much as pause. He began walking down the hill, blade at his shoulder, directly toward the shout that had blasted the air and called him to battle. "Try not to die this time, huh?" He gave the aelf and Hono a final wave as he joked and took off at a quickened pace to intercept the bellowing voice.

[Post 0]

themightyjello Wrote:

> "BE GONE, GHOST." He'd had quite enough of these dead men. > > > > [ Post 0 ]

"Ghost, huh?" The way this guy looked, he was obviously jacked out of his mind. Of course that was already better than his previous opponent, who seemed to think that doing a sideways crab shuffle constituted a proper challenge. There was also something about thumbing assholes too, but now wasn't the time for questioning what his old foe might have done in his spare time. Right now, there was someone far more interesting in front of him, and they didn't look like they were going to back down or flee the entire time. *Perfect.*

"I don't give a s**t WHAT you call me as long as you give me a proper fight." With a swing and a flex of his arm, Rance's right hand pulled his blade from its resting place at his shoulder and pointed it directly at the hulked-out hero in a very clear challenge.

"I'm Rance Blackblade of Smash and Sass!

And by the time I'm done, you'll be right back up that mountain of yours!"

They were big words from an even bigger man. Despite Anson's increased size from his mask, Rance still stood taller than he was at 6'4", and carried close to his level of bulk in armor and muscle. If the young man was currently Olympian, then Rance must have been Herculean. Whatever the tally of both fighters, it was clear this fight was going to be a real Trojan Throwdown, Hector against Achilles, assuming that meant anything when Greece didn't exist on Gaia. The point was that this was gonna be a proper brawl, and it was going to be brutal and awesome...

...And a least 5 times cooler than his fight with that Moonblade ********]

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